Sherlock: A Tale Of Two Detectives
by Ace5980
Summary: Near's best friend is the super-detective Sherlock, but she has a problem- she refuses to solve cases anymore! Can he convince her to help him avenge the death of their mentor and childhood hero, L, or is she destined to never solve cases again?
1. Prologue: A Death In The Family

_Normally, I don't like putting an author's note above my story, but I think this situation calls for one. After all, not many of my stories has another story behind it._

_This story began as a way for me to call Mello a bunch of bad names. You see, I've had problems with him ever since he snuck into a woman's bathroom (not listening to any excuses, Mello lovers; I've already heard them from my friend), and I think it's about time someone told him he's a loser. Then another one of my friends saw my first friend reading DN, and she said, and I quote, "Hey, is that a girl?" We explained to her that Mello was a guy, and guys in manga often had longer hair. Her responce was, "_Ohhhhh_, so he's gay." Needless to say, my other friend was not amused. She still isn't amused whenever I tell her if Mello was any less straight, he'd be a circle._

_Anyway, please review with how you think; I haven't written a lot of stories that I let people read, so please please please please please leave some constructive critism. No hate reviews please!_

_Oh, I almost forgot, there's a sort-of reccomendation thing going on right now- check the bottom of chapter one for more details. Once chapter two has been posted, it'll be over, so please, give me your input while you still can! If you're reading this after the recommendation is no longer going on, I'm sorry for wasting some of your time reading. I'll try to do better as I go on._

* * *

Prologue: A Death In The Family

As usual, my morning began with a nightmare, screaming, and drowning inside of my sheets. I sit bolt upright in my bed, gasping as though I had run a marathon. Slowly, the darkened room familiarizes itself to me, and my gasping slowed. The more recent memories reassert themselves as the older ones fade to the back of my mind, ready and waiting to strike again. There might be the gentle breathing of the other girls here surrounding me, but I still am struck by the fierce image of everyone's back. My parents. My young friends from before my rescue. My siblings. The local firefighters who had saved me on that horrible night.

Everyone whom I had loved had turned his or her back on me far too often for me to be any other way. At first, I had sought comfort in my work. But there were only two who could bring me comfort now. One would be asleep, and I didn't want to disturb him. The other was working in a foreign country, but he had given me his cell phone number, promising me that we could always talk, no matter where he was or what time it happened to be when I called. He would answer.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and left, not wanting to awaken anyone else tonight. I found a nice little patch of wall outside of the dormitory and settled down against the wall. I was across the hall from the boys' dormitory, but they wouldn't hear me here. I turned the sound off and scrolled down the list of preprogrammed numbers, settling on the one at the very bottom.

I hit the call button and held the phone to my ear, needing to hear his voice. The phone rang once, twice, thrice. It rang until it hit voicemail, a simple beep taking the place of a prerecorded message. This wasn't a new experience for me; I hit the redial button, knowing that he would answer soon.

But he didn't answer the second time. Or the third. Or the seventh. Something was wrong; I'd been abandoned yet again, this time by the one person who had sworn he would never abandon me. I screamed and threw the phone at the wall, my head falling down to hit my knees so that I could sob without anyone seeing if they came out to investigate.

"Beep it, Near, go control your girlfriend so that some of us can get some shut eye!" Mello's voice carried well even through the wall. I didn't like the arrogant blond anymore than he liked me. I didn't particularly remembered the exact event that predisposed him to me although I was certain he did, but I had never liked him. When someone hates your guts with the razor-hot intensity Mello hated mine with, it's rather hard to get over that and like them back.

I heard the click as the door opened and closed again, then the sound of someone picking up my phone from where it lay beside the door. Soft, warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me gently to my feet. I looked into Near's eyes, fearing what might be in there. Disgust and horror were pretty high up there on the list, but my most pressing concern was pity. I couldn't handle pity. However, there was only compassion and a kind of gentle resignation to meet me.

"Come on, let's get you to the two-step therapy," he murmured gently, leading me away from the corridor to the small kitchen area. He put me down in a small chair and walked over to the freezer, opening it and rummaging around for an age. Finally, he pulled out a small container of ice cream. Not just any ice cream either, this was my favorite kind, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. It was one of the few things that could sooth me after an episode. However, it was a rare thing to find any in the freezer; Mello had a bad habit of eating it, mainly because he knew it would exasperate me.

He opened it and grimaced. "Not much left. I'm going to have to talk to Mello about devouring all the ice cream before you get any."

I smiled sadly. I knew talking to the blond wouldn't change a thing, but it would make Near feel like he was doing _something_ to stand up to the tyrant. Near handed me the container and a spoon, taking only what he could scoop out on a finger for himself. He let me eat as much as I wanted, knowing that I needed this kind of soft-served comfort much more than anyone else did.

However, I was careful to leave some behind for the others when I put it back in the freezer. Hopefully, Mello would think we used a bowl, eat from the container, and catch some horrible disease. If I were lucky, maybe his horrible disease would make him smell like freshly caught salmon and result in him getting him eaten by a bear. Or even better, make him deathly allergic to chocolate. Yep, that one would kill him in about a day; Mello couldn't go a full five minutes without some kind of chocolate.

Naturally, the flip side of _that_ spectrum was that _I_ would catch some horrible disease, but I decided that seeing as Mello had already eaten some, my chances were pretty good. If there was some horrible disease, Mello should've been on his deathbed by now. Of course, that meant there was likely no horrible chocolate-killing disease in the ice cream, but I tried to keep my hopes up. There had to be _some_ justice in the universe.

Near led me back to the girls' dorm and peeked in. No one was awake. He led me inside and settled me back down in my bed. He glanced around again, as though making sure none of the girls had woken up since his last check. Then he surprised me with the kindest act he had ever shown me.

He twitched the curtains around my bed shut, closing out the entire world. No one could see in and we couldn't see out. "Near," I whispered, not wanting him to be caught in bed with me, something that would seem much worse than it really was. We didn't feel anything more than friendship towards each other, but in this occasion, friendship could get you in trouble just as thoroughly as love.

He cut me off. "I may not know why or how, but you were broken tonight. I'm here to make sure you'll be all right in the morning," he breathed, pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed up over himself. I smiled sadly and snuggled close to him. He wound an arm around my waist, comforting me with his closeness.

* * *

My name was Sherlock. I was the last orphan to be taken by Whammy's House, and the oldest they had ever taken too. But, they had taken me in anyway. Why, you might ask? I didn't work anymore; I refused to take any but the smallest of cases. I was a wreck, so great was my terror at being abandoned. Worst of all, I was a little bit of a problem child since I was constantly fighting against Mello's tyranny, but I was the only one who seemed to get caught at it, mainly because I didn't lie about my involvement, while Mello did.

I was still here because L himself had brought me here at the age of 10, a small wisp of a girl clutching his hand in one of mine and my book of Sherlock Holmes stories in the other. That was how I actually got my nickname, Sherlock. L had rescued me from the house fire that had killed my older siblings; my parents had already died several years before in a robbery gone wrong. I had clutched his hand so hard, relieved that someone seemed to be taking care of me but terrified of him abandoning me too. Only the quiet prompting of another orphan had coaxed me from my death grip around L's arm, one with white hair and gentle words. He had been so kind to me, a newcomer, unlike his companion, a certain blond-haired tyrant. Even now, my orphan boy continued to take care of me, on today of all days, the day that my savior had abandoned me.

* * *

Near and I slept late, giving us ample opportunity to sneak him back out once the other girls had left. Unfortunately, someone worse than a girl or an administrator was waiting for us on the other side of the dormitory door when we left so that Near could change out of his pajamas. "Hello, Sherlock, Near," Mello said conversationally, as though the two of us walked out of the dorm with Near still in his pajamas everyday. He didn't have the courage to say anything in his currently outnumbered situation. Once Near went into the boys' dorm, though, he had no qualms about launching a verbal assault on me.

"So, you've finally become what I've always known you were deep down inside."

I pretended to be disinterested, knowing that disinterest would work in my favor. "And that would be?"

"A dirty ho. Did he go in there with you willingly, or did you have to seduce him?"

"You know what, Mello, shut up."

He smirked. "I knew it. You seduced him."

"Mello, three things. One: I didn't seduce him. Two: We weren't up to anything remotely like what I imagine you think went on from inside of your twisted little head. And three: You're a real donkey, you know that?"

He snorted. "A donkey? You call that an insult?"

"Go look it up in the thesaurus, and come back later. The proper word for what you are should be listed under the 'a's."

"You're a regular comedian, aren't you, Sherlock?"

"I try." Not wanting this to turn into a fist fight, as it normally would, knowing Mello and myself, I went into the boys' dorm, knocking first so that Near knew I was coming in.

He was pulling a shirt over his head, his back to me. "Having trouble with Mello again?"

"Yeah. I called him a synonym for butt that begins with 'a' and rhymes with 'grass'. Any ideas what it is?"

He frowned. "Was that really necessary?"

"Near, I can't help telling him anything but the truth, and you know as well as I do that it's true."

"Yes, but telling him that is like asking to be transferred, or worse, expelled."

"They wouldn't kick me out."

He raised an eyebrow at me, not convinced. "Sherlock, it isn't as though you do any work around here."

"Yeah, but it's not like I have anywhere else to go," I mumbled. "And besides, I'm just as smart as you are. I just don't like solving crimes anymore, that's all."

"Sher, this wouldn't have anything to do with that case you were working on a few years ago, now would it?" he asked, staring at me. I looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze. It was answer enough for him. "Sherlock, you can't let one case determine your whole career. Just because you can't solve it, doesn't mean it's unsolvable. We can ask L to take a look at it the next time he visits; maybe he can shed some light on the matter."

"Near," I interrupted his musings. "I gave that case up because I couldn't handle it. It was a personal case, so L asked me if I wanted him to look into the matter back when I dropped it, but I refused. I had already nearly lost myself to it once. I was terrified that if I let him handle it, I'd find a way to get myself sucked back into it. I was obsessed. It took everything I had just to put it away and give it up. And after that whole thing, I simply can't trust myself on any major cases anymore. L and Roger know this, and they don't push me. I know they think I'll get over it one day, but I know the truth. I know there's a beast inside of me, waiting for the right chance to slip out again. _That_ case is dead, and I'm not reopening it. End of story."

"I'd take the case for you, Sher. You wouldn't have to hear anything about it if you didn't want to."

"Near, that case robbed me of three full years of my life. Three whole years. And I'll be danged if I let it take you too."

"Sher-"

"Near, have you ever heard the phrase, 'Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me'? That case fooled me the very moment I took it. If I took it again or let you or L take it, I'd only be letting it fool me twice. And you know I'm not one to be fooled twice."

He came over and put his hand under my chin, forcing my head up. "All right, Sherlock. We'll do this your way. I'll play Watson until you say otherwise, deal?"

"Deal," I said, my voice still rough with the memories associated with the case. We walked out, heading to our usual haunts. He began working on his unpainted puzzle, and I sat down in a chair along the wall nearby to begin working on a little translation. I was training myself to be literate in several ancient languages. Today's forgotten language was Ancient Egyptian, and I was currently working on my own translation of the Rosetta Stone.

Roger interrupted us, asking for Near. But when he caught sight of me sitting there, he said, "You come too, Sherlock. This concerns you too."

I frowned, putting my spiral notebook down on the chair. I had a bad feeling about this, and it only got worse as I followed the two out of the room. We went into Roger's office, and when I saw Mello sitting in a chair, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mello must've told Roger about Near spending the night in my room last night, and now we were going to be given our punishments.

However, when Roger spoke, it was not to hand out disciplinary measures. Instead, he both shattered my entire world and forced some sense from it at the same time with three words. Three little words with the power to destroy the world. Three short words containing the potential to plunge the entire human population into chaos. Three seemingly insignificant words to involve Near and Mello in the hardest case of their careers, a case that was likely to result in their deaths.

"L is dead."

* * *

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go. (This is just something I want to close all of these chapters with. I made it up myself, for Sherlock to use herself, so please don't steal it! If you do, I'll hunt you down and give you the bear-disease mentioned earlier in the prologue!)_


	2. Ch 1: Kira, and A Reunion With A

Chapter One: Kira, and A Reunion With A Certain Someone Who Ought To Be Dead

It had been many years since I had left Whammy's. Since then, I had become renowned as a translator of various ancient and lost written languages, one who wouldn't ask too many questions about where or why she was translating, just the what. I had also broken almost every tie I had to the place. The only one I had kept was the use of my given nickname, Sherlock.

I would have loved to contact Near, but he was working on the Kira case. He had asked for my help back when he had first taken the case, but I had refused. Mello had flat out refused to work with Near and had walked out on him years ago, instead choosing to join up with the Mafia. At least that meant he wasn't around to annoy me, the dumb, chocolate-eating, self-absorbed, tyrannical moron that he was.

I sighed heavily, thinking of even Mello had depressed me with thoughts of my old friends. Well, one friend in particular. I missed Near. A lot. I felt guilty for abandoning him to this Kira case, the one that had taken the life of my mentor. I fiercely refused to acknowledge Kira as a god or anything remotely similar to the like. He was no god. He was just a criminal with a new method of killing as yet unknown to mortals.

* * *

I unlocked the door to my apartment, ready to settle down for the day with a bowl of ice cream. I'd had a trying day of translating scrolls and the like, so now all I wanted was to go lie down and take a nap. Closing the door behind me, I walked into my bedroom and lay down on the bed. Even though, I wanted to sleep, I had to investigate on a few things, ie, how Near was doing. I snagged my laptop on the floor, shifting so that I was belly-down on the bed. That was when everything went horribly wrong.

Something landed on me with a lot of force. I struggled, wrestling with it, but I was only pushed down on the bed. My hands were yanked up behind me, and legs wormed around my waist, forcing my legs and hips to stay low. "Get the hell off me!" I yelled, twisted my torso in an attempt to push my hips up and make straddling my waist more of a challenge.

"Would you calm down, Sherlock? I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."

I paused in my struggling for a moment. "Mello? What are you doing here?" I asked, relaxing a little, giving him a false lull.

"I need your help with something."

"What makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because it's much more for Near's benefit than my own."

"So you two are working together now?"

"Hell no," he snorted, loosening his grip on me. I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. "Are you going to behave, or am I gonna have to restrain you?"

I braced my elbows on the bed, using them for the support I needed to fight back. I pushed my hips up, forcing Mello's crotch area to collide painfully with my spine. He slid off me, crumpling on the ground like a wet noodle. "Does that answer your question?"

His reaction to my attack was far quicker than I expected. His legs scissored out to strike my shins, forcing me to the ground. Unfortunately for me, I collapsed on top of him. "Behave, you little ho," he grunted, obviously fighting the urge to deck me right now. I became filled with anger. How was it my fault that after he had tripped me up, I'd managed to land on top of him in his sleek, skin-tight, black leather clothes?

"Fine," I snarled, recognizing my defeat and squirming out of my position on his chest. "I just hope you enjoyed that, you, you-" I trailed off, unable to find the appropriate words to describe my thoughts on Mello at this particular moment without resorting to cuss words.

"Not as much as you might think," he muttered darkly, pushing his torso up so that he was propped up on his elbows. "You are _so_ not my type." A long pause ensued while I digested that information and thought about how to best annoy him with a response. Finally, I came up with a suitable response.

"You're gay?!?!"

"Yes. No. How'd you guess? What makes you say that?" he spluttered, obviously unsure of what exactly he wanted to say.

I, however, had more pressing concerns. "I was right? Jeez, Mello, and I thought you were a creeper before."

"Don't be a homophobe."

"I'm not. I was just saying that as far as creepy stalker-vibes go, yours is about the size of Jupiter. No, wait, more like the size of the universe."

He gritted his teeth together loudly. "Come on. Let's just get this over with so that I can be rid of you for a while."

I smiled sarcastically. "Gee, thanks, Mello. I really love you too, you know that?" Nevertheless, I was still the one following him from the room, despite the hate that had formerly ruled our relationship so completely.

* * *

"A warehouse? Of all the places to bring me, you take me to a crumbling, abandoned, half-dead warehouse?"

He clapped a hand over my mouth. "Shut up! They're probably here by now!" I nearly bit his hand, but I held myself still, thinking that maybe time, age, and hopefully a little wisdom had made Mello nicer. Of course, when I felt the metal handcuffs snaking their way around my wrists, I began to have second thoughts. "Sorry, Sherlock, but this is for your own good," he muttered, pushing the cool metal of a small handgun against my the side of my head.

"Mello, you get the-" I began, but he pressed it harder against my head. I tried squirming out of his hold, but he had planned this well, gripping my handcuffs with enough strength to keep me here.

"All right, you little pale runt. Get out here where I can see you or I'll blow her brains out," Mello said, obviously irritable from his lack of chocolate.

Near stepped out from the shadows of the warehouse, palms up in a pleading motion. "Mello, leave Sherlock out of this. She wasn't supposed to be part of this. She hadn't wanted to be a part of this case."

"She doesn't want to be part of any case, dipstick, and besides, she became involved the instant _you_ took the case."

"Mello, please, I'm begging you, let her go. You made your point. I get it; you know how to hurt me without hurting the investigation. Let her go."

"Sorry, dipstand, but she's either leaving with me or with you. And if _I_ get my way, which I always do, I'll be the one with the most risk. So do you want to let me take the risk and save her life, or do you want both of us to die?"

Near looked away, unwilling to answer. The arms he held out for me were answer enough for Mello. The blond released me, and I ran into Near's arms, shaking really hard with tears falling from my eyes. He put his arms around me, as though protecting me from our childhood tormentor.

"Later, dipwads. I have a Kira to catch," he called, waving absently behind his back. Only once we were sure he was gone did Near turn his attention down towards me.

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess, Sherlock. But, I'll let you go home, and you can forget this ever happened."

I laughed shakily, leaving my face buried in his shirt. "You kidding? I'm staying with you."

"But you don't take cases anymore."

"Yeah, well, I think it's about time Sherlock came out of retirement."

He smiled, brushing away a lock of my hair that had slipped down into my face. "Welcome back, old friend. I've missed you."

"Likewise," I sighed, hugging him tightly without feeling the slightest inclination to ever let go.

* * *

_Hahaha, I feel sort of sorry for Mello. This came to me at like 5 in the morning as I was waiting for my parents to leave so that I can justify doing my homework at the last minute (hopefully, they will never read this; the odds are good, seeing as they've never read Death Note or heard of ). It started with Mello on top of Sherlock in a bed somewhere, with her hands held behind her back and an evil I-would-so-murder-you-right-now-if-I-could expression on her face. Next came the whole gay accusation/discovery, then Near rescueing Sherlock from Mello._

_The only trouble is now what to do with Sherlock! She isn't anything other than Sherlock to me, but seeing as I'm planning something big with her and Kira, she needs her full name to be realized. Please, if you have any ideas, leave the name to me in a review or an e-mail. I'll go through them eventually. Best name will likely end up hers._

_I've been thinking about it, and Mello won't spend a lot of time in here, seeing as this is a story created for the original purpose of calling him a variety of water-down names. I'm sorry, but he's gonna die soon, leaving me with one less enemy to worry about (unless he comes back from Mu, in which case, I'm doomed)._

_Anyways, sorry for getting so long here. I likely won't be staying long, or be adding to this often. School's coming down on me with the projects hard, so I'll probably be too busy to write, and proof-read (sorry, but I'm not asking for a Beta reader; I prefer to work with my stories myself), and post, and all that fun stuff. But I'll post when I can (translation: when an idea comes to me, and I'm not working on something else)._

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	3. Ch 2: I Don't Believe You

Chapter Two: I Don't Believe You

Near. It was a both a blessing and a curse to see him again. He did things to me, that boy. He made me feel like there was finally something worth living for in the world, like I finally had somewhere where I belonged. Then, the sucker-punch deluge of memories hit me in the gut, making me miss days long gone. They were lovely memories, but the miserable one overlording them all made me want to run away, to hate Mello for bringing Near back into my life.

* * *

_L is dead. L is dead. L. Is. Dead. _The words echoed in my head, over and over, making me feel sick with their finality and provoking warm tears to fall from my eyes. I was running away from that horrible room, away from Near and Mello and everyone else, as though if I could run far enough and fast enough, I'd be able to escape this horrible reality and turn back time to be with L again. No matter what everyone else thought, I couldn't take over as L. I wasn't strong enough. I'd proved myself incapable of that much already.

I reached my room and threw myself into it, slamming the door behind me. I hid behind the door as though I thought it would keep Kira out. I knew it couldn't, but I hated being without my friends. Since he could take them away from me, already had in L's case, I knew I couldn't take the case. It would consume me even more throughly than the other one had.

I could tell Near and Mello were going to take the case. They had no other alternative; they were both far too loyal to L and his image to let his killer escape. I, however, couldn't take the case even if I wanted to, which I did. I had loved L like a father, but I couldn't risk losing myself again. Not even to find his murderer.

OMG. Near. Mello. What would happen to them? I broke off mid-sob, terrified at the thought of losing my best friend and my worst enemy. The tears came harder, faster. I longed for my dog, named Mycroft after Sherlock Holmes's brother, to come and comfort me. But he couldn't. He was at the vet's office. I wanted Near to come and hug me, tell me everything would be all right and that he wouldn't go, or for Mello to come in, punch me in the jaw, tell me to stop crying, get up off my butt, and fight back. They were the only things I had left to live for.

But even with the thought that they might die, I couldn't bring myself to follow Mello when he left the next day. I watched him leave through the front gates, Matt at his side, never to return. I already missed his kick-butt approach to life. I may have hated him, but he was a constant in my chaotic life. I guess it wasn't so much that I missed _him _so much as I missed his lifestyle.

Mello's leaving, however, brought to mind one certain event that must be coming soon. Near would be leaving soon. Near. The truth of the matter was he made me tired. I may have been young, but he made me feel like an old soul. He may not have moved fast, but he was one who moved unhaltingly in the direction he needed to, wheras I had the spirit, but I was held captive by the past. My past. It held me motionless as far as anyone else was concerned.

I couldn't handle it anymore. The pressure to do well, the pressure to live up to L. Because I couldn't. I wasn't L. I couldn't even take cases anymore. I was dead weight. The only reason I was still here was because L himself had taken a liking to me. And now L was dead. There was only one thing I could do to try to block out the pain of the world. It was something I'd picked up from Matt. I pressed a button on a small remote and heard my iPod come through the speakers cleverly concealed throughout my dorm.

I turned the music up as high as it could go. I didn't care about anything anymore. I just wanted this to end. All I wanted to and could hear was the song.

_I don't mind it_

_I don't mind at all_

_It's like_

_You're the swingset_

_And I'm the kid that falls_

_It's like_

_The way we fight_

_The times I cry_

_We come to blows_

_And every night_

_The passion's there_

_So it's gotta be right_

_Right?_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say don't come around here no more_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

_I don't mind it_

_I still don't mind at all_

_It's like_

_One of those bad dreams_

_When you can't wake up_

_Looks like_

_You've given up_

_You've had enough_

_But I want more_

_No I won't stop_

_'Cause I just know_

_You'll come around_

_Right?_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say don't come around here no more_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

_Just don't stand there and watch me fall_

_'Cause I_

_'Cause I still don't mind at all_

_It's like_

_The way we fight_

_The times I cry_

_We come to blows_

_And every night_

_The passion's there_

_So it's gotta be right_

_Right?_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say don't come around here no more_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

_'Cause I don't believe you_

I set the song to repeat, liking it, when something caught my eye. Something important and earth-shattering. It was the only thing that could have possibly convinced me not to stay at Whammy's anymore. Near was walking out of the gates, his back towards me. He had left without even saying goodbye.

I screamed, throwing the remote at the wall. My world had been pulled out from under me, and I had no idea what to do now. My worst fears had come true; I was well and truly alone. I heard a loud barking and frantic scrabbling at my door. Someone must've fetched Mycroft earlier, and now here he was, trying to come help me. He must've attracted attention, for I heard the door open and let the dog in. The Golden-Lab mix ran over to me and began comforting me, assuring me with his warmth that he was still here when everyone else had left.

I looked up, but whoever it had been was already gone. I noticed a small folded up piece of white sticking out of Mycroft's collar. I grabbed it and unfolded it, finding a note written in Near's crisp handwriting.

_Sherlock-_

_I'm not one for words, especially words of comfort. You know this already, so I'm not really going to bother telling you everything is going to be okay because you and I both know it isn't and probably won't ever be. I hated to leave you, but if I didn't, I don't think it would ever be okay. Anyways, by the time you read this, I should have already left Whammy's for good. I'm not coming back. I'm not taking you with me. You don't want to solve cases anymore, and I just don't want to hurt you anymore, Sherlock. I can't stand it. I'm sorry._

_-Near_

The next day, I had resolved myself to never seeing Near or Mello, or even Whammy's for that matter, again. I told Roger I was leaving, and he did the only thing left that he could do for me. He got me in touch with a place that would offer me a job as a professional document and artifact translator.

* * *

_I guess I lied. It'll be another chapter or two before Sherlock meets Kira. I needed to reveal why she was off on her own in the world and why Near was so surprised to see her again. I'm sorry for the confusion. (:P to all of you who thought you were going to find out Sherlock's real name in this chapter.)_

_An interesting fact is that Mycroft is actually a character in_ Sherlock Holmes- _he's Sherlock's brother. I don't purposely twist details in reality, after all. I'll just say right here that I don't own him, or any other_ Sherlock Holmes _characters._

_The song whose lyrics are included in this chapter is_ "I Don't Believe You" _by P!nk. I do not own the song or anything else to do with it either._

_The plea for help for Sherlock's real name is still out there! I decided her last name will be (bleeped out for added suspence), but I still need help with her first name! Thanks to xxyangxx2006 for the recommendation "Mia". I like it, but I'm also open to suggestions!_

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	4. Ch 3: The Letter That Was Never Mailed

Chapter Three: The Letter That Was Never Mailed

My first action upon reaching Near's little hideaway was to ask someone to fetch my pet from the veternarian's office. "Please?" I asked, making my eyes go huge as I stared up at the bodyguard. I had no idea what his name was or had any intention of learning it, but I still wanted my dog back. "He's been there all day, and he'll miss me if he stays there overnight. Please?"

The man's eyes went over my shoulder, no doubt making contact with Near's. I resisted the urge to harumph like a small child, but waited patiently for the decision. I didn't actually see Near's decision, but I guessed it was likely an affirmative one, as the man asked, "What type of dog is it?"

"A black husky named Baskerville. Tell them Sherlock sent you, and you should be fine to take him since I normally have my students check my dogs in and out all the time."

He nodded and left, leaving Near and I as the sole occupants of this lonely room of computers. "So, what happened to Mycroft?" he asked, looking at the monitors from his position on the floor.

I sat down myself, careful not to disturb the various toys scattered throughout the room. I knew Near solved a lot of his crimes through his play, and just as he would never touch any of my things, I would never purposely upset any of his toys. "He was put down today. Lived quite a long time, considering his size."

"Hmm..." He trailed off, looking at the screens. I recognized a few of the pictures, so I knew he was using them as a feeble excuse to avoid me.

"Near, what's wrong?"

"I, I just." He sighed, interrupting his sentense. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to get involved in the Kira case, that's all."

_What in the world was he thinking?!?_ "Why not?"

"You don't really know enough about the case to work on it right now."

"I could learn."

"It's not just that. It's because L already died, and it's likely none of us will make it out alive either. I don't want you to die, Sherlock. You're my best friend, and besides, the world needs a good dose of a detective Sherlock again."

"If it's that dangerous, you could use my-"

"No!" His posture was stiff. There was no way he was comfortable in that position. I got up and patted him gently on the shoulder, feeling him relax underneath my hand.

"Fine, I won't take an active role in the Kira case." I refused to take anything less than that. I needed to stay connected to this. L's killer would finally be brought to justice, and I wanted to keep even a small role in his case. I wanted to be part of the team that would bring him to justice, even if Near would only let me be a miniscule part of that team. I could live with that. Thinking about justice brought to the victims remeindedt me of the case I'd given up when I was younger. "Near, I think I'll take the old case back again." He shifted underneath my hand. "What, do you have a problem with me taking that case too?" I asked, irritable now.

"No. I'm glad to hear you aren't giving up on that case. I actually have a letter in my room from L given to me by Roger. Roger said L had told him to give this to me to give to you if you ever decided to take that case back. I can only assume he meant this one, since it's the only case you've ever dropped."

"Yeah," I said, miserable. Could this possibly mean what I thought it meant? I hoped not. If it was what I thought it was, it meant that L had disobeyed my request _and _invaded my private life before Whammy's.

"Here it is," he said as he handed me a white envelope with my nickname written on it in fancy letters, having obviously gotten it for me while I was wrapped in my dilema. I nodded a thanks at him and held onto his arm when he began walking away. He had as much right to see this as I did. It was hard to open it, but I managed to break open the ice sheet of terror to the smaller glass sheet with its power to make, change, or utterly destroy my world.

_Sherlock-_

_I'm very deeply and terribly sorry for going against my word and invading your privacy. And breaking into your room, and your drawers, and your computer, and the space under your bed, and so on._

_But I knew one day you would want to come back to this case. There was an 87.95 percent chance you would take the case again. You never were one to give up, especially on the ones you loved. The way you fought for Near spoke for that._

_I did a little more research during the time I could manage to devote to it. I got ahold of several different records for all the fires you connected to the one which tragically brought you to Whammy's and a few you didn't manage to connect, but I did. I only spent a handful of months on this help, probably a day or two of time altogether, at most._

_I put all of my research, and copies of yours, into a vault in the cellar at Whammy's. I knew you must have burned your copies, so I made my own. You never were one to think ahead when you were obsessed with the case or when you were trying to rid yourself of it._

_I have two tips for you before you fully take up the case again._

_1) Don't do it alone. If you do it alone, there is a 56.8 percent chance you will lose yourself again. And this time, I don't know if even Near would be able to pull you back from that brink again._

_2) I suspect that a local street gang was behind all of the arsons. Perhaps one that was recently founded and quickly gained reputation among the other ruffians? Just a thought._

_I'm sorry that you had to learn about this through a letter. If you're reading this now, it means I must have been killed in some case or another. Likely the very one I'm going toward on the plane right now, the Kira case. I want you to know that I always had a special place for you in my heart, my little Sherlock._

_-L_

A single tear fell onto the paper, directly beside the neat signature. I folded the letter and tucked it back into its envelope reverantly. I was mad L had disregarded my request and invaded my privacy in more ways than just one, but I was happy he'd done it. He'd had a just cause in the end.

Near hugged me close, letting me cry on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I had no idea. I'm so very sorry."

I calmed down quickly. L wouldn't have wanted me to cry over the past forever. "So will you help me?" I asked, needing to know where he stood on this most simple of matters.

"Of course I will. Don't you remember? I promised to be your Watson, and I don't mean to break my promise."

Well, that took care of that. "Okay then," I said, pulling him along behind me. I found the room he'd pointed out as mine earlier and closed the door behind us. I pushed him down on the bed, finding the object of the hurried search I made of the room before I ripped his shirt off and began...

* * *

_Ahhh! Cliffhanger! And no, I still have not figured out her true name (grrrr). My friend (who reviews under the name Callie Ride, if anyone knows her) suggested another, Samantha. Any more name suggestions need to be made soon, so that I can put together a poll and let everyone vote on her name. It will likely be much longer than I expected for her to reach Kira, but she'll meet him eventually. I promise. Just be patient with us (me and Sherlock); we still have a long way to go._

_Please review if you want to guess the ending! I think it might be amusing to see what everyone else thinks is going to happen, but let me tell you, it'll likely surprise you! (Hint: Sherlock and Near are not together. Yet.)_

_Until next time!_

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	5. Ch 4: Some Books And A Toy Store

_S: After our last chapter came out, I found a lot of problems with what our author wrote, so she has decided to come out and apologize, isn't that right, Ace?_

_A: Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever. Crap, where is it?_

_S: Are you even listening to me?_

_A: Yeah._

_S: Then what did I say?_

_A: Stuff. Do you know where that sheet of paper is?_

_S: Your pocket. Now apologize!_

_A: (shuffle, paper sounds, clears throat) I would like to apologize for the abrupt ending to the last chapter installment. I should never have left off the chapter in the middle of a sentence and I'm very sorry. I shan't do it again. Furthermore, I would also like to offer my sincere apologies for the request of what happened. I likely gave away the beginning to the next chapter, and I am very deeply extremely sorry for the distress I caused my readers through my obscene mach- mak- (whispers, "Near, what's this word again?")._

_S: You had Near write up your apology?!?!_

_A: Maybe._

_5 Minutes Later_

_A: Well, that was a sincere heartfelt apology, but seeing as I am now chained to my desk because Sherlock didn't believe it, I might as well release the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it much better than she did with my last one. Also, seeing as I'm waiting for Mello to come rescue me, which is not likely to occur in the near future, please review. It'll likely make him come faster and maybe make Sherlock feel better about everything._

* * *

Chapter Four: Some Books And A Toy Store

...drawing on his back. He squirmed underneath me. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"Stop moving; you'll mess up the paint!"

He froze, putting the pieces together. "You're drawing on me again?"

"Yeah."

A long pause ensued before he asked, "May I inquire as to what you're drawing?"

"Memories," I said. I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was wondering what I meant by that, but he didn't ask me again. I wouldn't have answered him anyway. I was too far lost in the memories of days long ago, most of them not particularly pleasant.

I drew anywhere from ten to twenty different drawings on his lower and middle back, but I was starting to run out of room. I began painting my way up his shoulders when I caught sight of something. Something I thought he'd lost long ago. Something I had recognized like it was the back of my hand.

He had a slender silver chain winding its way around his neck. I paused in my painting, not sure what to believe. Hesitantly, I eased my fingers under the chain and began winding it around so that I could see the necklace. Could he have kept it after all these years? Could he?

The necklace glittered subtly when it appeared from the side of his neck. We both were stiff as boards as I pulled the pendant into my hand. It was a pair of dragons entwined with each other, white and a smoky gray. I knew this necklace the way I knew the table of elements. The two dragons were quartz with a small ring in the center of their noses. I knew it was a one-of-a-kind necklace, crafted by only one person, who had only made one of them. I knew it was worth both a small fortune and absolutely nothing in the real world, but I couldn't care less about the monitary value of the necklace.

This was my necklace. Near had my necklace. I remembered back to the day I had first gotten it for him...

* * *

It was Near's birthday. And for the first time in the three years since I'd come here, it had fallen on one of our outing days. Even better, it had fallen on the day Whammy's was being taken to the mall. If it had been anyone but us, I don't think Roger would have let us do what Near and I were doing. Well, actually, I'll correct myself right now. Mello and Matt were doing it too.

What I was referring to was the fact that only the two of us were a group on our own. Everyone else had to be in a group of at least three other kids and an adult chaperone. Near and I were one of the two groups allowed to be just a pair of students. The other pair was Mello and Matt, but the reasons for them being alone were entirely different from mine.

Near and I were our own group because we were extremely well-behaved and were willing to compromise on which of the two locations we'd be at, either the bookstore or the toy store. Both were fairly close to each other, and we would occasionally split up if we needed to. However, we had the fairly nice tendency to stay in the toy store, since it was easy to take books in a toy store, but not so easy to take toys into a bookstore.

Mello and Matt, on the other hand, were alone because the last time Mello had been at the mall with an adult chaperone, he had beaten up the guy and ran off with Matt. The time before that, he had tried to beat up Near and ended up getting a black eye when I stepped in on his behalf; yes, the four of us had been in a group, which in hindsight, wasn't exactly the best idea, given Mello's and my tendency to attempt to beat each other up and Mello's to beat Near up. I guess that was enough reason for everyone to leave the two morons alone. I mean, it wasn't like they were going to set the place on fire. Even Mello had to have more class than _that_. After all, there was a chocolate store in there.

When we got there, the two of us split off quickly after checking in with the adults, making sure to steer clear of Mello and the chocolate store. I was already skating on thin ice from the past few Mello incidents, most of which I'd come out of entirely physically intact, and I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much temptation. Besides, it was like Near said; they weren't worth it. Matt, maybe, he was pretty nice, but Mello wasn't. It was just so hard to resist the urge to beat him into a quivering pulp upon the ground.

"Hey Near, I know it's your birthday and all, but can I drop you off at the toy store? I have a few errands to run while I'm here, and I don't think it would be fair to drag you around with me on your birthday."

"I don't mind." He looked up at me, and I could see the truth of his conviction. Even though I was the one clinging to his hand or arm, it was obvious I was the dominant one in our relationship.

"No, no, I insist. It's your birthday, and taking the day for myself would just be mean. And I'm not the mean one; that's Mello's job." I walked behind him, but I was the one steering him into the store, where his toy instincts took over. I gave him a few minutes head start before heading into the maze of boxes and various crap to look for him.

It took me another handful of minutes to find him, but I managed to locate him in the Lego aisle, sitting down and playing with a selection of the store Legos left out for people who wanted to play with them. He looked up as I came over, but I wasn't going to pull him away. Instead I kissed the top of his head, feeling like an overprotective mom when I said, "Okay, I'm going to go do the errands now. Please, stay in the store while I'm gone so that I can find you, all right?"

He nodded, hugging me awkwardly around my legs before letting me leave. Even though we were the same height at the time, I seemed like the more mature one because of the aura I exuded. His aura was more of a little kid one than a teenager. Still, I knew he'd have the good sense not to leave the store with anyone but me or one of the adults from Whammy's, leaving me a little peace of mind to do my chores.

First, I went to the jewelers' to get a few final things. Then the bakery (dang it, there were no good cakes), then the food court (they had yummy chinese food, and I was hungry). Now I visited various stores as I began gathering up a few other things and looking for a nice bow. Finally, chores done, I caved and got myself a couple of soft pretzels, one for me and one for Near. Now to make a quick book run and I'd be done for the day.

I loved the smell of paper that was always present in a bookstore. A lot of the loudness of the mall behind me disappeared as it was eaten by the pages and words. I wanted to dive into the shelves and look for some new stories to read. But I didn't. I'd already left Near alone for far too long, and besides, I left several book requests at the front for me to pick up.

I went to the counter, looking expectantly at a young girl whose look said _oh great, another kid _in not quite so many society-acceptable words. "Hello, Miss, are you having trouble finding a book, or have you lost your mom?"

"Cut the crap, please. I am no small child. I believe I have some books being held up here under the name 'Shayne', and I would like to pick them up now."

"You're Sherlock Shayne?"

"I'd say so, seeing as the only Shayne holding books here is Sherlock."

"Isn't Sherlock a boy's name?"

"Actually, it's my nickname."

She looked skeptical, ringing up my books on the register and holding out her hand, expecting cash. "Oh really? So what's your real name then?"

"Scarlett Johanson," I joked, handing her a blue debit card. She shrugged and punched in the numbers before handing me a recipt. I signed it and handed it back.

"Haha, very funny. No really, what is you're real name?" she asked, handing me back a couple of large bags weighed down with the weight of my recent purchases.

I took them, tucking my other bags inside of them in order to hide the extent of my purchases from my friend, and walked over to the doorway. "My name," I said, pausing for dramatic effect, "is lost to everyone, including me."

I made my way back to the toystore and Near. He was still, unsurprisingly, playing with the Legos, though exactly how he had managed to build such a large replica of the Eiffel Tower using only the store's Legos was a mystery to me. "Heya architect," I said, ruffling his hair affectionately, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. I'm done with the mall at this point. I don't have enough Legos to build this thing any higher," he said, obviously put out with the store's lack of materials.

"It's all right. I think they'll have a hard enough time tearing that one down in the first place anyway."

He caught sight of the two large book bags bulging with various goods. "Want me to carry one?" he offered.

"No, no, it's fine. I got it," I huffed, not wanting him to see the other contents of the bag. He gave me a blank stare with a slight bemused twinkle in his eye. I had been around him for so long I had learned how his facial expression worked. Contrary to popular belief, you could tell if he was surprised, or scared, or anything else from the look on his face, but the changes were slight enough that anyone who wasn't around him all the time wouldn't notice them. "Seriously, I got it."

"I'll never understand you, Sherlock."

"I know. Pretzel?"

When we got to the bus, we found out we were the last ones there. Roger came over to us, looking relieved. He couldn't lose L's potential heir and the girl who had practically been adopted by him. The two of us ran up into the motorcoach and settled down in the first four open seats. The shopping bags took up an entire seat on their own next to me, and Near sat across the aisle, watching me rummage through the nearest one.

Finally, I managed to find what I'd been looking for and handed a small black velvet box to him. "Happy Birthday Near," I said, presenting him with it.

His cheeks turned bright pink. "Sherlock, you didn't have to get me anything."

I waved his protest away. "I didn't buy this. I actually made this one. The present I bought is waiting at the orphanage in your room. I got you enough Legos and dice to fill a large bathtub. I just wanted to get you something special, that's all."

He opened the box to see a little necklace suspended in the middle. It was supported on a fine silver thread, with a pendant made of a white dragon intertwined with a smoky gray one. "Sher-"

"Relax, it's quartz. And I didn't make the chain, I got it and had a jewelers' put the pendant on the chain. It took me a little while to make, but I don't mind taking it if you don't want it."

"No!" he said forcefully, eyes glinting as he fastened it around his neck. "This isn't something I'm going to return."

I smiled and hopped across the aisle to sit with him. "I'm glad," I said, hugging him tightly as he pulled the pendant around to the front. "Happy Birthday," I whispered, kissing his white hair.

* * *

I was back in the present, Near underneath me as I straddled his waist, paint drying on his back, quartz crystal growing hotter from the warmth of my hand. "You kept this?" I asked in a whisper, not daring to believe it.

"Of course," he said, turing his head around so that he could stare at me. "I did tell you I wasn't going to return it, and besides, it was all I could take with me at the time to remember you by."

* * *

_Yes, I know, I did just reveal Sherlock's real last name. Give me another chapter, and I'll have her first name out too, I promise. That is, if I can get more name help! I still don't have it picked out yet. :P_

_Oh, and the setup for the mall in the story is loosely based on Northpoint Mall in Alpharetta, Georgia. Great place to go visit, if you can find it. And yes, I, like Sherlock, love the food at the food court (Sakkio Japan makes really good teryaki chicken, just saying) and will also enjoy the soft-pretzels there (yum, is there anything in this world better to eat at a mall than a pretzel?). I do not own the rights to anything at the mall either; the lucky ducks just got some free advertising here._

_So long! Farewell! Until next time! (And yes, Mello is going to come back into the present soon, along with a couple other colorful characters! Yay for colorful characters!)_

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	6. Ch 5: SilverFoxx

_Sherlock: So, how have you been coming on, Ace?_

_A: You can breathe easy. You're name isn't out yet. That's an adventure for the next chapter._

_Sherlock: (shakes head) I think I'd rather just have you tell everyone and be done with it._

_A: Nah. You have another adventure this chapter._

_Sherlock: Oh crap. I'm just gonna walk away at this point._

* * *

Chapter Five: SilverFoxx

My cell phone rang loudly in the silence as I sat across Near's back. "Aw, she-it!" I cussed as I slid off the bed and Near and onto my own feet.

"Your ring tone. Legend of Zelda?" he asked.

"Twilight Princess," I confirmed, patting my pockets frantically for the phone. "Little bugger," I muttered as I fished the silver cell out of my back pocket. "Hello?"

"Hello, Sherlock. I was wondering if you would do me a favor."

"Aw, hell, Mells! You just effing kidnapped me; what the hell makes you think I would do you a favor?"

"Hmm... How about if you do me this one little favor, you can get some information yourself. I imagine you're taking your old case, no? And in my experience, gang connections will get you far in the detective work."

"I already have gang connections, you loser."

"Recent gang connections?" he asked snidely. I paused, unwilling to continue. He, on the other hand, had no such inhibitions "Thought not. Meet me at the old club called the Margarita as soon as you can." He hung up loudly, letting me hear only the dial tone.

"That self-centered, idiotic, sixteenth-witted loser!" I yelled, throwing my phone in the general direction of the bed.

"You have gang connections?" Near asked, turning to look at me.

"Old ones. I was quite the jack-of-all-trades when I was younger."

"You mean, before you came to Whammy's."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." I turned to walk away when he cleared his throat. "What?" I asked irritably, unable to believe the merest suggestion of a possible lead had me in this kind of a tailspin.

"Don't you need these pictures?" he asked, brow clouded. I frowned. I was so mixed up right now I had forgotten about the drawings I had made naught but five minutes ago.

"Yeah, crap, I'm sorry Near. I'm just not focused today." I picked up my phone and quickly snapped shots of his back, making sure to get multiple photos of the various rough sketches. "You can take a shower now," I said, task complete. "I have a future maniacal dictator to meet."

* * *

At home, I packed a few things and left it in a duffel bag by the door. I'd be able to come back and grab it before I was too busy with all this other crap. I refused to sleep in here anymore; it wouldn't feel like home knowing Mello could invade my privacy at any time. The thought made me shudder. Gay or not, the very notion of Mello sneaking into my apartment at the dead of night gave me the creeps; or worse, he could very easily break in here again and take me hostage. Nope, I was not staying a single night more in my poor violated former home.

Now, what was the club he had said I was to meet him at? Oh yeah, the Margarita. I had been there before. It was a nice place, but a little too backwater for my taste. Still, it was a known hangout for various gangsters, so I'd have a lot of luck dealing with that kind of thing. But what to wear? After all, if I showed up as Sherlock Shayne I'd either (1) be refused entry, (2) arose too much suspicion for looking too much like an undercover cop, which I was, or (3) get kidnapped, raped, and likely murdered.

So Sherlock was out. But what about my new persona? I'd taken _her_on to try finding Near and Mello, but I hadn't gotten enough of a trace while I had been looking to even get too much of a clue where they were. _She _could certainly handle the clubs with ease, as _she_'d proved many times before. The only problem was that if I used _her_, I would likely have a hard time ditching all of my admirers and getting some useful info. I weighed the options out in my mind and decided the best option would be to take the risk and go as my alter ego.

But first, I had to do a little make-up change.

* * *

It felt weird to be in this new persona. But I couldn't let that show now. My alter ego was fearless, so I had to be as well. I sashayed up to the bouncer and was immediately let in when he caught a good look at me. I was instantly barraged by people and music, feeling like a little leaf caught in the deluge of a mighty storm-torn river. _Mello. Where was Mello? _I scanned the crowd for him, but couldn't spot him under the pulsating strobe lights.

I resisted the urge to grind my teeth. Why did the little punk have to make this so dang hard? Was it too much to ask for him to not play games with me? Wait a minute, was that Matt I saw out on the dance floor? I would have recognized the striped shirt, orange goggles, and red hair anywhere. Yep, that was Matt, and seeing as he had always stuck close to Mello's side at Whammy's, I thought the odds were good that he would know where the heck Mells was.

The blond moron wasn't anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the redhead, so I decided the best way to bring him out was to pretend to flirt with Matt. I wove my way lithely through the dancers, loving the way everyone around me would stare at the legendary girl they'd only heard whispers about. I paused at Matt, as though checking him out, but I didn't have long to wait.

"Buzz off, Foxface, he's with me." An extremely pissed-off voice floated through the crowd to inform me as it's owner, a likewise pissed Mello, appeared at Matt's side.

"Well, hello to you too, Mello," I sniffed, letting my yellow-contacted eyes sparkle mischievously. "And I appreciate you telling me to buzz off after you invited me here in the first place. How rude."

His eyes bugged out for a moment. "Sherlock, you're---"

"Yep! The infamous SilverFoxx, at your service." I tossed my newly dyed silver hair over my shoulder, absently noticing the solitary black lock I had left that began halfway down the strand. I could tell Matt was appraising me with new eyes, trying to see the girl he had known back at Whammy's underneath all the skimpy clothing and flirtatious make-up. "Nice to see you again, Matty boy," I said, casually using the familiar name both Mells and I had been so fond of using.

"Sher- SilverFoxx! It's been quite a while! You've changed a lot!" He smiled and embraced me tightly, albeit briefly. It was pretty obvious from the look on Mello's face that he didn't like the idea of his Matt embracing a girl dressed in such a short silver miniskirt, even though her silvery shirt was fairly modest. I closed my eyes and flashed him a smile, showing off my sparkly silver paint I'd put on my eyelids and the pair of silver fox ears I'd put in my hair.

"So have you, Matty. I can't believe you managed to get taller than me, let alone managed to find a proper lover before I did!"

He chuckled. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Trust me, it's not."

"Yeah yeah, I know, abstinence is the way, and all that lovely crap. Can we please either get down to business or catch up? I'm dying to know what's happened to you guys since I've been gone!"

"I vote catching up," Matt said before Mello could say anything.

"Seconded. Whatever you were going to say about work is over-ruled, Mells."

He frowned. "No wonder there's not too much money on the ongoing bet on whether you're a virgin or not; the odds are almost certain towards the you-had-to-have-been-laid-before side of that debate," he muttered under his breath.

I smiled back at him. "And I will be happy to dispel that particular bet by saying I am still a virgin."

"Miraculous," he muttered again. I wove my way through the crowd gracefully, managing to dance with the flow and earn quite a few hungry looks from girls and guys alike. The boys behind me, however, weren't nearly as graceful as I was and probably weren't making any friends as they went. Eventually, we found an empty room off to the side, and I plopped down in a chair and took out my silver fox ears.

"So, where have you been?" I asked.

A voice spoke up from across the room. "An excellent question there, my old friend. Where have you been?"

I turned to see a handsome young man with long black hair overhanging his face stepping into the room. Mello pulled a gun on him, leaving me slightly bewildered as to where in the world he had pulled it out from, but I grabbed the impulsive blond's arm and pulled it down. I recognized the man, even with the long red scars racing their way down his arms. "Simon?" I asked, feeling my face freeze in an expression of horror. "What the hell happened to you?"

* * *

_Mello: Is she gone?_

_A: Yes._

_Mello: In that case, I will go raid your kitchen for chocolate. (vaults through window and walks off)_

_A: What about me?_

_Mello: You'll live. Sherlock has to let you go eventually._

_A: Thanks for the vote of confidence. (sighs irritably and growls in exasperation)_

_?: I have come to rescue you!_

_A: Simon!_

_Simon: Hey, you know there's a massive explosion going off in the kitchen (click)_

_A: (sigh) I'd better go see what's wrong._

_(Goes to kitchen to find Mello and Sherlock going at it with a chocolate bar and a butter knife. Matt then walks in.)_

_Matt: Five bucks on Mells._

_Simon: You're on! He doesn't have a prayer. You in, Ace?_

_A: No; I'd rather not get chewed out by Sherlock later like you two poor suckers. Oh well! I guess all's well that ends well!_

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	7. Ch 6: A Name Is Just A Word, Right?

_A: Heya! I decided to introduce this one by saying I went back all the way to the beginning, which wasn't fun in the slightest, in case you were wondering, just to proof-read it. Let me tell you, there were so many mistakes, but I think I fixed most of them, so yay! Rejoice! Oh, and there isn't going to be anyone else helping me with these for a little while. Sherlock's in the hospital for butter-knife wounds, and Near and Simon are staying with her; Mello's in the hospital for several broken ribs, and Matt's staying with him until that clears up, so it'll just be me, Mycroft, and Baskerville, ain't that right, boys?_

_(woofing comes from background)_

_A: Remember, reviews help Mello heal faster (and also help Sherlock inflict them more painfully and hilariously)!!!!!!!! (They also provide Baskerville and Mycroft with doggy kibble, thought I'd just like to add that!)_

* * *

Chapter Six: A Name Is Just A Word, Right?

He rubbed his scars absently. "Gang fights. You'd have your own collection if you'd stayed." He shrugged. "But enough about me. What about you?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I went through Hell, came out a different person, tried to rationalize it, failed, almost lost myself, recovered, left my home, got kidnapped, and recently decided to go back down the rabbit-hole again."

"Oh God, Olivia, I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to me. Matt was staring at us both, wide-eyed, while Mello collapsed on the ground, shuddering with laughter.

"OLIVIA!" he yelped, "Your name is OLIVIA!"

"Shut up, Mells, just shut the hell up!" I yelled, my fists clenching together at my side. He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. I got up, fully intending to make him a soprano, but I was tangled up in the furniture. My view shifted, there was a sharp pain in my head, and the world went black.

* * *

_A long white corridor stretched in front of me. I didn't mind white, but I wanted to see some real color. I began moving down the corridor, letting the brightness almost blind me. I had a strange notion there was something in front of me, so I stopped. A brilliantly bright flash shone on my eyelids for a moment before the light toned itself down to about the same level of a cloudy day._

_I opened my eyes to see a white wooden door with a worn brass handle. Hesitantly, I reach out and touched it, finding that it was almost exactly like the doors into each of the four-person dorms at Whammy's. Reassured by the familiar comparison, I opened up the door and stepped beyond its threshold._

_The room, at first glance, seemed empty. Then on my left, I saw Simon standing stiffly, but Near was in an identical position on my right. I reached out to the gangster, but found myself unable to pass a line etched on the floor, almost as if there was a thick sheet of glass between us. I tried to do the same thing with Near, but I only received the same result. "Dang it, let me in!" I screamed, pushing against the invisible walls with all my might. "Why won't you two notice me?" My vision blurred as tears began streaming down my face. "Why?" I whispered brokenly, sinking down to my knees, "Why?"_

"_Because you can only have one, my girl." That was L's voice. L. I whirled around frantically, but it took me far longer than it should have to spot him standing in the doorway, looking almost exactly as he had when I'd seen him last._

"_L?" I asked, under of what to believe anymore. I mean, he had frickin' panda ears sticking out of his hair. I'm pretty sure if you're seeing dead guys with animal body parts, then you're either crazy, dreaming, or both. He smirked at me, stepping out of the threshold and towards me._

"_Not quite," he said, his form changing as he came that one step closer. Untidy black hair changed to blond, blank black eyes to shocking blue ones, and baggy clothes to supple, skin-tight black leather. His hips had a slightly swaying motion to them as he strode over to me and trailed a finger down the side of my face._

"_Mells, stop! Think of Matt!" I gasped._

_He smirked again, turning away and letting his spotted leopard tail trail along my neck in place of his fingers. "Thanks for reminding me; I'd almost forgotten him." He whistled loudly, expectantly. "Matty! Come here!"_

_An adorable little spotted beagle came out from the doorway. He sat at Mello's feet, obedient as could be. Mells reached down and caressed his head and neck, prompting the dog to let out a surprisingly human-like moan. His green eyes slid shut behind his orange goggles. "I know Matty," Mello whispered quietly, seductively, "I want you too. But we have work to do."_

_The dog whimpered but extracted himself from Mello's side, coming to stand at mine. "Matt?" I murmured to him, and he licked my hand once in confirmation. I ruffled his fur, addressing Mells now as I spoke, "What do you mean by work?"_

_His cat ears twitched, a barely noticeable movement of golden fur. "It's time you had a lesson in names," he said, roughly jerking my hand to touch Near's back.__I was on top of Near again. He wore only a pair of swimming trunks, and I had on a bikini. My eyes widened, and I twisted around to view my back, which was uncharacteristically covered in flawless skin._

* * *

"_Is something wrong, Sherlock?"_

_I whipped around to see Near staring at me, gray eyes full of concern. He stretched languidly underneath me, yawning. "You were drawing something on me, but if you don't want to finish it anymore, you can help me wash it off."_

_Heat flashed its way through me in a sudden wildfire under my skin. I wanted to take him up on that so badly, but the brush in my hand already had a large amount of paint on it. "No," I murmured quietly, "I'll finish my drawing first."_

_He put his head back down on his arms, perfectly content to let me be. I drew a single line on his back and cussed, trying to wipe off all the excess paint. "Dang unsteady hand!" I muttered darkly, "It's dry."_

_He rolled suddenly underneath me, staring up at me. Impulsively, I leaned down, kissing him like I'd wanted to since I came here. His lips were gentle on mine, and his hands came up instinctively to hold me there, not that I wanted to stop. The only reason I pushed him away was because I wanted to finish the sketch. He understood what I wanted and reluctantly rolled back over onto his stomach. "Later," I promised him, my stomach in a knot, as I gently pressed a hand between his shoulder blades, "after you wash the paint off."_

"_Sherlock," he moaned, a pleading tone to his voice, but I wouldn't take any excuses. I went to dip my brush in where I knew the blue paint was, but when it came back, it was covered in red. Irritated, I looked over to the side to find out where the heck I'd gotten _red _from what I thought was the blue paint canister._

_Simon's body lay alongside us, dried blood caking his body, but it couldn't have been too old. I had been painting with my best friend's blood._

* * *

_I screamed, feeling pain lace its way up my arm. I looked down to see only dog-Matt gripping my arm between his teeth with an apologetic expression on his face. "Come on, Matty, why'd you have to pull her out at the best part? I was starting to enjoy myself." Mello's voice, ice-cold and compassionless, laced its way down my spine, causing a shiver to follow it all the way down. "No matter. She still has Simon and Olivia next," he said, forcing my hand into Simon's._

* * *

_Sitting beside Simon on the love seat felt as natural as breathing. Our fingers were intertwined, and he was playing with my hair using his other hand. My other hand was tracing the lines of various scars twining their different ways down his bare arm, similar to those I knew decorated my own body. He sighed and leaned in, planting a kiss on my neck._

"_'Love you, Olivia," he whispered against the skin, causing goose bumps to appear where his breath ghosted upon my skin._

"_'Love you too," I said, turning to kiss his forehead, prompting another heavy sigh from him._

"_I got you a present from my last mission," he said conversationally, moving his mouth to my cheek._

"_Really?"_

_He nodded. "Want to see it?"_

"_Please and thank you."_

_He grinned impishly and kissed the tip of my nose before getting up and disappearing from view. I waited patiently, knowing Simon came and went on his own schedule, something that would not be overly influenced by my patience or lack thereof. "For you," he said, popping up out of nowhere and presenting me with what he held in his arms. "And," he continued, sincerity burning in both his eyes and and voice, "I'd do it all again if I had to. You would only have to say the word."_

_He held Near out to me from inside the circle of his arms, a bullet hole plainly painted on his pale forehead, right between the eyes, in the perfect kill position._

* * *

This time, it was a hand hesitantly placed upon my shoulder that brought me out of my scream. It wasn't Near's, as he wasn't here, like Mells (thank God), or Simon's, since he was fact asleep in a chair. It was Matt's hand that was there and his whisper, asking, "Are you all right? You conked your head pretty hard, so we brought you back to Near's place."

"I had a horrible dream."

"Tell me about it. Maybe I can make better sense of it," he whispered faintly, squeezing my hand. So, in a hushed undertone, I related the enitirity crazy events to him.

"Well?" I said, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face.

"You said everyone except you, Near, and Simon were part animal. You even described L and me pretty specifically, but you never talked about Mells. What did he have?"

"Leopard ears and tail."

"Hmm... Mells with leopard ears and a tail," he said, closing his eyes. "Yum."

I snapped my fingers a few times in front of his face. "Matt, focus!" I hissed. "What do you think?"

"I think,' he murmured slowly, "Simon coming back into your life and calling you by your real name threw you off, and the dream was your subconscious reaction to that. But, Sherlock, you do realize.." he trailed off, changing his mind mid-sentence.

"What? What am I supposed to realize?"

"A name is just a word, after all."

* * *

_A: Yes, the secret is finally out! Sherlock Shayne is really Olivia Shayne (dum dum dum)! I would like to thank xxyangxx2006 for the earlier recommendation and constant reviews (stay tuned; Mia WILL be making an appearance soon. No more details though; you're just going to have to wait for the next chapter like everyone else. Fortunately, I already wrote it, but my friend has it and I will be forced to chew her out about that minor matter the next time I see her. Until then, as a consolation, I offer this chapter). As a reward for your kindness, Baskerville will be going to your house to offer you doggy kisses (eventually)._

_For all the rest of you who have not reviewed- Mycroft will be peeing in your beds, Mello will eat all of your chocolate, Matt will steal all of your computers, Simon will be taking your motor vehicles, Near will be commandeering all of your toys, and Sherlock will be blowing your house to smithereens. So I hope you're all happy._

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	8. Ch 7: The Past Best Left Forgotten, Part

_This is the third time I've done this particular author's note because I'd write it, proof-read it, and find out my computer hadn't saved it. Grr... I'm not going to even try rewriting any of them. You're just going to have to wait another chapter or two before you get actual author's notes again. (P.S.- Sherlock, I'm sorry for what I am doing to you over the course of the next few chapters.)_

_Oh, yes, almost forgot. For my warning from the last chapter, I left out Baskerville, so here's what he will be doing- eating all of your socks. The end._

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Past Best Left Forgotten, Part 1

Near came into the room a moment later carrying a box of Legos with a bowl of ice cream balanced on top. "Sherlock, are you-" he began.

Unfortunately for everyone, a full-blown black cyclone burst into the room behind him. We had a moment of calm during the processing of the scene, which was me with my head on Matt's shoulder and body smushed so close to his, I was practically sitting on his lap while he left his arm around my shoulders comfortingly. After that though, the cyclone wasted no time bringing its destruction. "Sherlock, get the frick away from my boyfriend!!!!"

I scooted away from Matt as I watched Simon jerk awake and fall out of the chair he was in. I glared at Mello. "The term 'boyfriend' implies a little more fluff and a lot less sex than what I imagine goes on between you two."

He tensed his black leather-cloaked body in front of me, ready for a fight. Matt also saw the warning signs and pulled the irate blond onto his lap. "Behave you," he scolded quietly, tapping Mello's forehead gently with his knuckle as a warning.

"Yeah, sure whatever," was the reply he got as its source snuggled closer into his chest.

"So," Simon said conversationally, sliding in beside me, "Who's the motley crew?"

"These two, as they've likely introduced themselves already, are Mello Keehl, the blond, and Matt Jeevas, the redhead. They are, to the best of my observation skills at any rate, lovers. This is Near River, my best friend, and for future reference, Si, I took the name Sherlock, though I still use my old last name, Shayne. We're all geniuses- and detectives of sorts. Mello's a Mafia boss, Matt's a hacker, Near's in the FBI, or more specifically, the SPK, and I'm honorary teacher at several top universities and also happen to be a world-renowned artifact translator."

"So what are you working on now?"

"I recently reopened my parents' murder and the arson of my old home."

"'Liv!" he gasped. He grabbed my shoulders, making me stare into his eyes. "Tell me everything."

I leaned down and rested my head in Simon's lap, letting the rest of my body curl up behind me. I was lying on my side, facing the edge of the bed, I let my hand drop down over the end. Near gently held it in one of his, but Simon couldn't see; he left his own hand on my cheek, reassuring me that he was still here. "'Kay, Si. I'll start at the beginning. And pay attention back there!" I added, directing my comment behind us, where Mello and Matt were doing so heavy making-out up by the headboard. "This concerns you too."

* * *

(11 years prior)

The whispers and rumors were everywhere. Simon Falman, also known as Simon Cottonmouth, had a new deputy, a young girl. Almost everyone else didn't know what to believe; would the Cottonmouths' new deputy prove to be a hoax or was there actually a female in a prominent position among the most notorious of the city's gangs since it was the only one who dared to steal from the other criminals? I was the only one who knew the truth other than Simon himself.

That was because I was Simon Cottonmouth's best friend and his newest deputy.

* * *

"Olivia! Could you get me some Doritos?" Simon's voice plodded its way down the stairs after me. It tapped me on the shoulder, asking me to wait for just a moment.

"Sure," I called to him where he was sitting in my room on my bed waiting for a report. A new gang, the Cobras, had been making some very bold moves lately, and we were getting concerned. So we'd sent our best agent, Mia, my best friend other than Si, to observe and report, and if need be, deliver a warning. The Cottonmouths were not to be messed with.

The doorbell rang once when I reached the bottom of the stairs. I paused momentarily, but I didn't want to get caught with Simon in the house since my parents thought he was a bad influence on me, so I opened the door. A gruff-looking policeman stood on the other side of the porch, the rain making his car a mere silhouette in the background.

"Miss Shayne?" he asked, eyes staring at me absently as though he was already resigned to the inevitable answer I would give him.

"I'm Olivia, the youngest."

"Is one of your older siblings around, preferably Christopher or Rachelle?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied, giving him an uneasy smile, "it's just me." All I could hope was that Si wouldn't come down and refute my claim.

"Then I'll make this brief. I'm terribly sorry, Olivia, but your parents were shot in an apparent robbery-mugging gone wrong."

* * *

Christopher, then eighteen, ended up taking custody of me, Rachelle, who was fifteen, and Kate, who was thirteen. Mom and Dad had had a fair amount of money stashed away for us and the insurance money left us with the means to live comfortably for quite a long time, even though no one had planned for their deaths. Life just worked that way sometimes, and I hated it.

I threw myself into the gang, rapidly gaining the expertise, respect, audacity, and power to form my own gang or even stage a coup for Simon's if I so wished. But he and I both knew if that ever would come to pass, it would be on a day a good long ways away; I depended upon Simon's, and by extension, the Cottonmouths', assistance far too much to ever leave or take over the gang.

The Cobras were proving to be much more of a menace than anyone could have possibly predicted. They hunted our prey, stole our turf from underneath our feet, bribed our members, killed or blackmailed those who wouldn't comply with them, and absolutely refused to negotiate with us. Lately, their borderline had been coming too close to my house for Simon or me to breathe easily. Mia'd begun setting patrols, but they weren't having an effect upon the hardened Cobra gangsters. A few days ago, the border had been moved to the very edge of my property line, which was something Simon and the others wouldn't stand for.

The majority of the members settled themselves down in wait at my house, anticipating a fight, one they were unwilling to lose.

* * *

(2 years later; 9 years prior)

"Simon, why do most of the gang have to stay at my house? Christopher's getting suspicious," I complained, absently winding my finger around in the telephone cord.

His laugh sounded through the line. "You can't blame them for wanting to protect you, 'Liv."

I exhaled in a growl, recognizing defeat. "How's recruitment going?"

"A few seem interested, but with our street war going on right now, they're hesitant to sign up with what seems to be a losing cause to them."

"I don't blame 'em. It wouldn't be right to have them join up only to send them to their deaths."

"'Course. I'm not gang leader for no reason, Olivia."

"I know, I'm just being silly."

"No, you're doing your job as my deputy. We'll take care of the Cobras when I get back, okay?"

"'Kay. 'Bye, Si."

"'Bye, 'Liv."

I hung up the phone, stretching. It was late and almost everyone else was in bed. Other than myself, only a solitary sentry, Mia, was awake. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs and towards the window, intending to have to few words with my best friend. But the thing was, when I reached the alcoved chair where the sentry would watch from, Mia was nowhere to be found.

In her place was a makeshift bomb.

I knelt down in front of it and began mentally stripping the bomb down to its barest components, trying to understand the mechanism. No one else had ever made even the simplest bottle rocket, so I was their only hope of making it out of here alive. My mind was whirling, discovering things about how the bomb worked through only the smallest details, the slightest little things. Slowly, a blueprint of the death machine organized itself in my head, and I studied it eagerly, searching for a design flaw with unparalleled desperation.

There was only one. The timer could be disconnected, and without it, the bomb could not be detonated. I carefully pulled out the wristwatch acting as the timer, a child's Mickey Mouse thing that looked like it wouldn't even be able to keep proper time and as if it was one of those found in the bottom of a cereal box.

Disaster averted, I went back to my room in order to retrieve my copy of _The Collected Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, fully intending to keep watch until Mia showed up since she hadn't been in her room when I'd bothered to check. Book and watch still in hand, I decided to run downstairs for some chips, heading down to the bottom of the stairs before I fully realized my folly.

The bomb went off, sending many pieces of red-hot shrapnel down after me and scratching up my back. The others didn't stand a chance. By lucky coincidence, some firefighters had heard the explosion and managed to rescue me before the resulting fire killed me. Outside, I sat on the truck, a blue corduroy blanket wrapped around me, staring blankly at the false promise of the watch.

"The bomb wasn't supposed to go off, you bastard," I accused Mickey in a muffled whisper. "Why did you lie?" Mickey didn't answer me, just stared straight ahead and kept on smiling as though he was glad everyone I ever knew was dead. "You bastard," I whispered again and slipped him into my pocket.

"Um, excuse me, but did you just try to disarm the bomb that went off here?" asked a man with untidy black hair, blank black eyes, and baggy clothes. I nodded since there was no way he was a cop. He held out his hand to me. "Come on. I'll take you home."

I took the offered hand, my other one finding better purchase on my book. There was only one question I wanted answered. "Who are you?" There was a momentary pause, broken only by a quietly murmured response.

"I'm L."

* * *

_Paths may be long or short, criss-crossing or solitary, but they will always take you where you need to go._


	9. Ch 8: The Past Best Left Forgotten, Part

Chapter Eight: The Past Best Left Forgotten, Part 2

(present day)

I pulled my hand from Near's and pushed my sleeve up as high as it would go. On the far side of my arm, beyond my elbow, was a battered plastic toy wristwatch. Everyone's eyes focused on it, even mine. "Is that?" Simon breathed, daring to ask the question on everyone's mind.

I nodded. "I wear it to remember those who died because of me and why failure is never an option."

Warm fingers closed around my arm. I looked over to see Matt's orange-tinted green eyes looking into mine with slight trepidation, a disapproving Mello clutching his arm possessively. "May I see it?"

In answer, I unbuckled the watch and handed it to him, absently rubbing the spot where it had been absently. "Hey the watch is-" Mello exclaimed, looking at the thing, but I cut him off.

"Broken, I know. It stopped at the exact time of the explosion, 11:12:19 PM on September 5th. But that wasn't the end of things" I paused here both for dramatic effect and a brief moment to contemplate what I was going to say next. "In fact, it was only the beginning."

* * *

The instant I was released from the hospital ward, translation: once my wounds healed up, I began trying to solve my case. If there had ever been an occasion where I had eaten, slept, bathed, went to class, or for that matter, paid attention in class without being prompted by Near or L, I can't recall it. Everything after then for three years was the case. Three whole years of memories, of life, lost to me forever. It might have been far longer too if it weren't for the camping trip, the only one Whammy's ever did. The camping trip that opened my eyes...

* * *

(6 years prior)

The bumping movement of the motorcoach was annoying, as were the too-loud sounds coming from the speaker directly above my head. I didn't know what movie was playing or the weather outside the window so great was my absorption in the binder in my hands, the binder that was my life's work. Briefly interested in the outside world, I glanced up to the picture screen a few seats above me. Ah. It was a Batman movie. My curiosity sated, I began to reopen my binder, but a pale hand held the cover firmly shut.

"Sherlock, I know you want to work on your case, but there's a storm coming, and-"

"Say no more. I just need to get something first." I turned around in my seat to poke my head through. Matt smiled at my sudden appearance, apparently happy to see me interacting with the world again, but Mello, his seatmate, scowled. "Matt, could I have a cigarette?"

Near yanked on my sleeve, attempting to gain my attention but failing to do so. "Sherlock, you're going to smoke one of those things?!?"

Mello's response was in a hushed whisper since he didn't want to get Matt in trouble, but his tone was no less condescending. "Matt, you smuggled some cancer sticks out with you?!? I thought I'd flushed them all down the toilet!"

Matt glared at him as he handed me something he kept hidden inside of his hand. "Mells, one: I'm not giving her an actual cigarette, and two: why the hell did you flush all my cigarettes down the toilet?!? I was gonna use those!"

I unwrapped the lollipop in my hand and put it in my mouth as Mello continued, "Yeah, and die afterwards of lung cancer!"

"I disagree."

"Fine, you may not die specifically of lung cancer, but those things'll be the death of you! Promise me you'll quit!"

"'Kay, Mells. I'll try."

Finally managing to thin out the lollipop enough for my purposes, I shifted it around in my mouth so the stick stuck out very similar to a cigarette. I leaned back against the seat and sighed in contentment. I had Near, I had a "cigarette", and I had Mello and Matt arguing back and forth behind me. What more could the average girl genius want?

Near's hand crept into mine as the sky grew darker outside, but I didn't react anymore than to clap my hand around his. I could see the barest hints of fear in his eyes and posture, but I doubted anyone else could. Sighing, I moved my back so it was against the window and pulled Near onto my lap, letting him press against me and peep out from around the curtain of my brown hair to watch the very end of the movie. Briefly, I remembered when I would do the same thing, and Simon would comfort me, but I pushed the memories away with a force of effort. Those days were long gone, and missing them would do me no good.

"Hey, Sherlock," Ivy, the girl in the seat ahead of me and one of my dearest friends, said. "I was wondering if- okay, what is going on here?" she asked, changing topics mid-sentence as she processed our seating positions. BB, or Beyond Birthday, her seat mate and another friend of mine, twisted around in his seat and did a double-take when he saw us. Near, uncomfortable with all the attention, attempted to squirm out of the position, but I had him in a death-grip, so he didn't succeed. Fortunately for him, Mello and Matt were too busy arguing about cigarettes to pay much attention to him.

"I'm scared of thunder, so Near's helping," I explained, the lie coming easily from my lips. He glanced at me, understanding in an instant I was telling a falsehood; he was the one with the pathological fear of thunderstorms, not me.

BB wasn't convinced though. "By sitting on you?"

"Yep," I said, eying him meaningfully through Near's erratic white hair. He snorted, still not convinced, but he turned back around to grab a book from his bag, red eyes flicking back for only a moment before he began reading what looked to be _Dracula_. "What were you saying, Ivy?"

"Um, I was going to ask if you wanted to share a tent with Linda and me?"

I smiled wryly. "I'm already sharing with the two morons behind me."

Her eyes widened. "You're rooming with a couple of guys?" BB hissed, twisting around again to stare at me in disbelief, fangs bared; yes, he had dental work done a few years back to give himself permanent vampire fangs.

"Relax, would you? L says there's a ridiculously high probability the pair are gay, and if not, I think I can fight Matt off, and in what kind of strange alternate universe do you live in if you think for even the slightest part of a nanosecond that Mello Keehl would want to jump my bones?"

"True," they breathed, chuckling.

"And if you repeat the thing I said about them maybe being gay, I will cheerfully beat you until you are nothing more than a quivering pulp upon the ground, perform an act of sexual battery upon that pulp known as your body using something particularly unpleasant, and then kill you in the most violent manner possible. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

BB nodded solemnly, returning to _Dracula_, while Ivy piped in a quiet, "Crystal!" before she got out her own book, a much dilapidated copy of _Twilight_ she'd borrowed from me. I promptly decided upon its return that I would defile it with a skinny purple Sharpie; I'd already done so with various different highlighters, but it was time to up the ante. It was time for permanent defilement. Normally, I wouldn't so much as dog-ear my books, but for the very worst ones (cough, _Twilight_, hack), I made an exception.

* * *

The campsite itself was dreadfully disappointing, but since we were stranded here for today, tonight, and tomorrow, I might as well try to make the best of it. Matt and I set up the tent while Mello sat on a rock and "supervised". After our "group" effort to set up the tent was done, we all went down to the river. Near, Matt, and I were the only ones not in a bathing suit because I had the case to work on, Matt was trying to beat Pokemon Ruby again, and Near was building a house of cards on a flat rock off to the side. Ivy, in her white bikini, and BB, in blood-red trunks, were engaged in a water gun fight, but they managed to hit Mello, in jet-black trunks, more often than they would each other.

Fed up of being the unintentional human target, Mello called Matt down to at least wade in the water with him. On the way down, Matt dropped his ancient Gameboy Advance into the river, and although Mells was quick to rescue it, it was obvious that the game was destroyed and that virtual Mudkips do not do well in real-world rivers. "No, Mudkip!" he sniffled as Mello sloshed back upstream to him. As he was walking though, a stone shifted under his feet, which caused him to land loudly and painfully in the water.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed, or at least, he did in my mind, as he tried to push himself up. "Holy crap!" he gasped when he collapsed again, clutching his ankle.

Matt ran over and felt Mello's ankle gently, examining it with a careful doctor's eye. "Feels like you might've sprained it," he pronounced grimly.

"You're telling me."

"Can you walk?"

"No. I can't even get up, Matty," Mello whispered. The redhead sighed and picked him up, piggybacking the blond back in the general direction of the campsite with his temporarily-killed Mudkip seemingly forgotten. Ivy attempted to snipe BB in the back, thinking he wasn't playing attention to their game anymore, but he had been, so he was able to avoid the shot, but I wasn't quite as lucky.

"Goshdang it, Ivy! If someone comes down to a water place wearing clothes, you do not try to get them wet! It's common sense!" I yelled, a large wet spot all over the front of my shirt.

Ivy looked near tears, and Beyond Birthday put his arms around her shoulders. "She didn't mean it, Sherlock. She was aiming for me." Unable to find the proper words to express myself, I growled at the two of them, stomping off to my now one-person tent. They didn't follow me, understanding I needed some good quality alone time with my case to calm down.

* * *

A few hours later, Ivy reluctantly stuck her head in through the flap as though she expected me to bite it off at the earliest opportunity. "Hey, have you seen Near? He went off a few hours ago to go birdwatching and hasn't come back yet."

"So?" I asked, rolling lazily onto my back.

"So," she said slowly, carefully emphasizing each word as she said it, "it's about to turn into a real thunderstorm out there."

I sat up abruptly, suddenly realizing my absolute absorption in my case wasn't healthy and my situation now was a direct result of it. "I have to find him! He's gonna get himself killed!" I struggled into my boots and raincoat, ready to go out into the impending storm to find him.

"I'll come with you! And we can take Beyond-"

"No!" I hissed. I glared out into the angry gray sky overhead. "I have to do this alone. If we aren't back by morning, tell Roger, okay?" I didn't wait for her to agree or tell me I was crazy, instead running off into the trees, calling Near's name at the top of my lungs. I had to find him. I'd been stupid, absorbed in the past, and if I lost him now, I would never forgive myself.

The sky opened up, pouring buckets of rain down on my head, but still I yelled. The water soaked into my hair and clothes, pressing them against my body, but I did not leave. Visibility drastically reduced, but I didn't give up. Anxiously, I scanned the trees with growing concern. "Near!"

I don't know how I managed to spot the water-logged genius up in the tree since the white had long since changed to gray, and he hadn't gotten my attention in any way. "Near!" I yelped in relief, scrambling up the tree towards him, "Near!"

I was a few moments away from reaching him when it happened. He was turned towards me so I could see what it did to him. A large flash of lightning snapped down nearby, terrifying us both. Near's gray eyes showed a fear so irrational, the only thing keeping him here was the absolute trust he had in me. I wanted to let go of my rationality, as he had done, but someone had to be the responsible one, and it obviously wasn't going to be him. When I reached his branch, he threw himself at me as though he was trying to hide himself inside me, rasping, "Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock," over and over.

"Shh, it's all right, Near, it's all right now. I'm here, and we can go back to my tent now. Come on, up on my back, I can't carry you there and climb down at the same time," I murmured soothingly to him. He obeyed, clinging to my back like a small koala would to its mother, burying his face in my hair. I navigated my way down as best I could one-handed, but sometimes I would be forced to use tow and let Near hold on as best he could. When we reached the bottom, he slipped off and clung to my arm. I pulled out my phone and sent Ivy a quick text telling her that I'd found Near and we were coming back now.

I pulled Near into my tent when we reached the campground, recognizing he would not be able to sleep alone tonight. Matt and Mello were also sharing a sleeping bag, the pair looking very sweet asleep. Near snuggled closer to me inside of my over-sized sleeping bag that I was sharing with him, falling asleep almost instantly so close to my comforting warmth. I stared at his innocent face, devoid of sadness or fear since he was close to me, and made my decision. I opened my phone again to send one last text.

_L. Can't take cases anymore. Giving up mine. 4Ever. Sorry. -S._

* * *

When I got home, I separated myself from everyone; Near, Beyond Birthday, Ivy, Matt, Mello, basically everyone I knew. I ran to my room, surreptitiously palming a lighter from Matt on the way. I grabbed a metal trash can in my room, locking the door behind me to prevent anyone and everyone from stopping me. I collected all the paperwork from around the room, throwing it in the bin, before adding binders, folders, anything to do with my case. I lit a single paper on fire and dropped it in the trash can, watching my dreams go up in smoke with the papers.

If only I could go up too...

* * *

_Meh, I'll just say if you want to see the saying, go to the beginning. I'm not putting it anymore. Too lazy. :P_

_No real author's not this time; sticking another chapter up after this, so I'll put the author's note in then._


	10. Ch 9: The Past Best Left Forgotton, Part

Chapter Nine: The Past Best Left Forgotten, Part 3

(6 years prior)

I stayed there in my room on my bed long after the light from the fire left the walls and the papers had been reduced to ash. I had lost. Slowly, tiredly, I dragged the trash can to the window and dumped the ashes out into the sky, watching the wind take my life's work for the past three years far away from here. Once they were all gone, I painfully pulled myself away from the window, hating the fact I could see them now even outside of my dreams. Every night, every single Goshdang night, they would visit me with accusations in their eyes, accusations that would only get worse when they learned of my betrayal.

I had to talk to Matt. Like me, he was visited by the demons of his past. That was why he smoked and played video games on a constant basis, to escape the demons, to escape reality, to escape what he couldn't live with for ever single dang second of the fricking day. We would hide out somewhere, away from the others, and share what we would dream about. I dreamt of my family, the blood-related and the adopted. He dreamt of his mother. We were both lost in the pain and suffering of our pasts. At least this way, we suffered together. Together. As in not alone.

And Matt, faithful little puppy that he was, was waiting for me on a couple of little kid chairs with a large bowl of ice cream. He surrendered it and a spoon to me and sat down. He dug around in his pocket for a cigarette, unable to talk about this without one, clamped it between his teeth and held out his hand. Chagrined, I slapped the lighter in his hand and watched him light his cigarette. Normal rules didn't apply to us when we did this, so he'd have a smoke while we spoke to help with the pain. He waited patiently for me to begin.

"They visited me in my room today. They wanted to know why I burned my work when I was so close to a breakthrough. I told them the truth, Matty. I told 'em I couldn't live my life in a fog anymore. I almost lost Near through my uninvolvement in life, and I wasn't going to do it again. I had to choose between them and me, and fool that I was, I chose life." I swallowed hard, tears in my eyes. "God, Matty, I'm a failure," I said, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"You're not a failure, Sherlock," he promised me, "You're try to do the best you can with the cards you've been dealt." He paused now, shifting gears. "I still see her sometimes too. I would swear I saw her somewhere, but she isn't. Occasionally, it'll be someone else who looks like her, but more often than not, no one's really there. It'll just be me, lost, alone, afraid, and with no one to turn to."

"Matty!" Mello ran out and hugged him tightly in a rare display of affection. Near and Ivy, who must've been close behind him, stopped at my side, watching the pair warily. The blond glared at me through his bangs and put his hands on his hips. "What did you do to him?" he demanded, blue eyes blazing.

"Me?!? I didn't do anything!"

"You two have been seeing each other, haven't you?"

"Hell no! We've been having share sessions; our theme for each one is 'The Past of People Who've Died And Come Back To Haunt Our Dreams Every Single Effing Night And Oftentimes During The Day Too'!"

"Yeah, seriously Mells, it's all we've been doing," Matt added hastily.

"BS," Mello declared, gripping Matt's arm tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

"Mello, when was the last time I ever lied to you?"

"Last week when I asked if I beat Near on the Advanced Biochemistry test, and you said 'yes', but I really hadn't."

"I was telling you what you wanted to hear! Okay, I may stretch the truth a little when you want me to, but I don't and would never do it on the big things, and I'm not lying now. Not to you." Matt hung his head, looking like a dejected puppy who'd been spanked for saving someone's life.

"Matty," he whispered and jerked Matt into a quick first kiss. Matt had an amazed expression on his face, but it wasn't an Oh-my-God-I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that look; it was an I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that-but-could-you-please-do-it-again? look. "You're not the only one with a past they'd rather leave behind them."

I snorted. "Really? And what is it that haunts the steps of the great Mello Keehl? Is it someone you loved, like Matt here, or are you like me and haunted by the people who'd inadvertently lost their lives because of you?"

I didn't' see Mello's fist connect with my face, but I certainly felt it. To my credit, I didn't make a sound when his fist hit me, but it was a very close thing. Gingerly, I reached up to inspect my nose by touch. My hand came away red with blood. My blood. At this point, Near and Ivy desperately clinging to my arms were the only things standing between Mello and a broken nose.

"You think you killed your loved ones? Were you the one pulling the trigger then? Were you?!?" he shouted, fists clenched. I shook my head, my body a mirror image of his. "Then you didn't kill them."

"BS! If it hadn't been for me, they wouldn't have been there when the bomb went off! I may not have pulled the trigger, but it's all my fault!"

His blue eyes hardened as his jaw stiffened. "You feel guilty about their deaths, don't you? Try watching your parents get gunned down in front of your eyes. Try reassuring your little brother that everything will be okay when you know it won't be because there's a gun up against his head with a man itching to pull the trigger behind it. Try living every day knowing you survived while the others didn't because the cops arrived in time to save you but too late to save anyone else. Then you can come back and tell me about guilt! Until then, get over yourself! They're dead and gone, and you're still here! That isn't going to change anytime soon; get used to it! Life isn't always just or fair!"

By this point, I was crying and shaking hard from the strain of resisting the urge to throw off my friends clinging to my arms and give Mello a good firm punch in the jaw. He didn't understand! He didn't understand a single thing about me! No one, not even Matt, knew the full story of my past. Suddenly, there was a broad black back standing in front of me protectively. "That's enough," BB said to Mello firmly, anger in his posture. He turned to me and gestured for Near and Ivy to release my arms. "You okay?" he asked me quietly, his red eyes full of concern, apologies, and the kicker, pity.

None of us saw it coming, not even me. Blood was dripping from BB's nose, there were splashes of blood on my knuckles, and everyone was staring at me in shock. I had screwed up yet again with great aplomb. I, Sherlock Shayne, had messed up _big time_. I threw myself away from them, unable to continue facing them after my latest mistake. I had punched Beyond Birthday in the face, hard, when he's only been trying to help me. I could hear the pursuit behind me, but it was far enough away for me to be able to lose them easily. It would have no effect upon my haphazard escape.

My room felt strangely quiet and empty without the paperwork from the case cluttering the room; it still smelled like smoke from the fire earlier. There was a quiet knock on my door, which I answered with a thrown book, _His Dark Materials Trilogy _by Phillip Pullman. I'd have to remember to lend the book to Mello at some point; it'd be fun to watch him squirm as he read it. "Go away, Near!" I shrieked as loudly as I could.

"Sherlock, may I come in?"

Oops. I guess I'd just shown L a little bit of my insanity gene, which may or may not run in the family. I opened the door to let in my mentor and hero. He came in and sat down on my bed, the bottom bunk, patting the space beside him. I closed the door and plopped down beside him. He put an arm around my shoulders comfortingly. "Now tell me why you decided not to solve cases anymore." I briefly summarized the events of the past couple of days for him, leaving out Matt and Mello's personal stories since they weren't mine to share. "I understand. No more cases for you."

I sniffed once. "I guess I should go apologize to everyone and say good-bye."

"What are you talking about?" L sounded somehow confused and slightly offended at the same time.

"I'm not a detective. I don't belong here anymore."

"This is your home. You belong here, even if you aren't doing any work."

"Stop acting like I'm fixable because I'm not! This is a permanent thing! Why don't you are about that?"

l smiled faintly as he got up and walked over to the door. "I do care, Sherlock. I care about you a lot. If I didn't care about you, then why would I have ever filed papers to legally adopt you?" My mouth fell open as he opened the door and said, "She's all yours," before leaving.

BB and Ivy came in first, sitting down on either side of me. Near was the last to come in, closing the door behind him. He, to my surprise, hopped up into my lap and snuggled against me. The other three of us blushed, but he didn't seem to notice or feel self-conscious. "Sorry, BB. Really. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Sherlock. You weren't reacting on a conscious level when you punched me."

I shifted a little. "Do you know what L's doing now."

Ivy held out her hands for Beyond Birthday to pull her up. "I think he said you and Near had the rest of the day off, and he was going to have to talk to Mello and Matt. He also said something about maybe needing to have a gay talk with them?"

I giggled and waved to them. Mycroft came in with them when they opened the door to let themselves out. The dog whined at us, wanting to go outside. "Come on, I have a special place I want to show you," I whispered to him.

"No storms?" he asked, wanting verification.

"No storms," I confirmed, pulling him along behind me with Mycroft bounding ahead. The floppy-eared dog frolicked about in the open air, but much like his mistress, he was smart. He knew better than to stray too far. I led Near over to a spindly tree over to the side of a small pond and stopped at the base. "Near, promise me you won't ever show or tell anyone what I am about to show you."

"Promise."

"Good." I nodded, patting the tree affectionately. "This here is my tree. No one else knows how to climb it, not even Mello, the tree-climbing expert, and it isn't from lack of trying. But I've managed to memorize an exact pattern of branches that will lead you to the solve stable branch of the tree, the only one capable of supporting a girl and her enormous stack of papers for long periods of time with little risk of falling." I held out my hand to him," And I want to share it with you, if you trust me."

He placed his hand in mine. "With my life." Feeling high from the exhileration of knowing he trusted me, I carefully guided him up to my promised branch, the spindly thing beneath us bending slightly under our weight, but he didn't panic, showing complete faith in me. Once there, I place a sweet first kiss on his lips. "Okay, why'd you bring me up here if you only wanted to kiss?" he asked confusedly.

I smiled at his logic. "Because I wanted my very first kiss to be special."

* * *

_Sorry for having so many problems with getting these up! My computer has not been all too spell-check compatible right now, so I've been sitting on a lot, plus I haven't been really motivated. I'm sorry. As consolation, I'm putting up two chapters right now. However, I will say I'm sitting on another four chapters, so..._

_Oh, and Mello and Sherlock still aren't out of the hospital yet. Just as well too. If she had any idea what I've been writing about her and Near (he got caught playing with a naked Barbie- long story that is fully explained, sort of, in chapter 13), I likely would not be here to put this up._

_Until next time, please remember reviews help Sherlock and Mello heal (and help add to my not-deadness, btw)!_


	11. Ch 10: Wounds of the Past In the Present

_(Ace comes in with Mickey Mouse ears on head, humming the song from the "Carousel of Progress" ride at Magic Kingdom while twirling a "Twilight Zone: Tower of Terror" dog tag necklace, and playing with an Epcot Golf Ball key-chain. Near is perched on Sherlock's lap playing with her hair, Matt is on a couch sitting on Mello's lap while he traces patterns on the redhead's skin, and Simon is playing Mario Kart against Matt while sprawled across an armchair.)_

_Near: (gasp) You went to Disney and didn't take me??? (Sniffle)_

_Ace: Yeah. Sorry Near._

_Near: I've never been. (Sniffles again)_

_Sherlock: I'll take you sometime soon, 'kay?_

_Near: Okay, Sherlock._

_Simon: (calls over shoulder while playing) Run while you can!_

_Ace: What do you mean?_

_Sherlock: Your writing is horrible about us, and you're holding out on the poor readers! I mean, you're writing chapter 15 right now, but you've only published to ten? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!_

_Ace: Um, I haven't published ten yet, and I'm actually on more like 17 since I wrote a couple of random stuff I'm gonna publish later._

_Sherlock: Mello, would you do me the honors since you lost the bet? She did write more than 15, ha!_

_(Mello sighs and gives me a patented "Death Glare".)_

_Ace: (Screaming) Okay, okay, I'll publish ten right now! Happy?_

_Sherlock: And eleven?_

_Ace: Soon. Right, Matt?_

_Matt: Yeah, sure, whatever._

_(Sherlock gives "Death Glare". Ace runs and hides behind Simon.)_

* * *

Chapter Ten: Wounds Of The Past In The Present Day

(present day)

Everyone was focused on me. I closed my eyes, feeling very self-conscious. The whip-like wound on my back, sides, and pelvis throbbed slightly, but I ignored it. It was a part of me now, an unpleasant part, but a part all the same.

"Well, it's obvious to me what you have to do," Simon announced, pushing me off him and standing up.

"And that would be?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Isn't it obvious? You need to go back to both of your old homes!" He looked at me triumphantly, a goofy smile on his face.

I blew up. "Whammy's, yes, but Ground Zero? No, no, no, no, NO!" I yelled, fists clenched in the comforter.

"'Liv- Sherlock," he said, reaching for me.

"I think you should go now," I muttered, my jaw tight. "I'll call you when I'm ready to go in, okay?"

If Simon had a tail, it would have been drooping right about now. "When you're ready, I'll be there." He walked out the door. A moment later, Mello left too, pulling Matt along behind him, who managed a wave before he was yanked away.

Near got up and sat behind me. I slowly pushed myself upright, and he crawled into my lap. He'd grown since the last time he'd done that, so he had to bend a good bit to hide himself in my hair like he used to. He still, much to my relief, weighed about the same. "Is it really that bad?" he murmured in my ear. His breath ghosted over the skin of my neck, making me shiver.

"What are you talking about?" I gasped, feeling breathless because of him. I'd taken a good long trip down memory lane, remembering our on-again, off-again but mostly off relationship. We'd just had a good four years of off, but now I felt like we were on. In all honesty, even though Simon's reappearance after nine years threw me, I hoped we were on again.

"Your home home. Is it really that bad?"

"Yes."

"There aren't any happy memories?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore."

"Nothing worth laughing at? You haven't really laughed like you used to," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made me nervous and turned me on at the same time.

"Not that I can recall," I said nervously. Then I shrugged, seeing where he was going. Might as well beat him to the punch. You know what they say: offense is the best defense.

I tackled him on the bed and started tickling him. He yelped and tried slapping me away. "Dang it, am I really that obvious?"

I grinned impishly. "No. I just know you way too well." He growled and flipped me over. "Ah, stop!" I giggled, squirming underneath him.

"Nope."

"Mercy, mercy!" I yelped. He grinned and stopped, leaving his hands on my sides. His legs were around my waist, and our faces were flushed from laughing. "Happy now?"

"Not really," he whispered, a pain lanced through his voice. I didn't think about what I did next. I just did it.

I yanked Near down by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He moaned, pressing himself closer. Our breathing came in gasps, and our bodies tangled together. My fingers began plucking at his shirt of their own accord, wanting to feel him quiver under my hands.

Pain lanced though my gut. I gasped and pushed him away. "Sherlock?" he murmured, confused as to why I had suddenly stopped after my complete surrender.

"It's nothing." I smiled at him and pulled him down much more cautiously. The doctors had said everything could regrow if I was lucky, and I had had enough bad luck over the course of my life to deserve some good luck now. It couldn't have reached the worst-case scenario. That would be nearly impossible; I mean, the cording hadn't cut me _that_ deeply.

"What's wrong, Sherlock? You aren't as into it as you were a few minutes ago."

"I told you, it's nothing, just some old scars."

"Ones from the explosion?"

"Well, one in particular, but I'm fine now."

He eyed me skeptically. "Pain in old scars generally is a sign of complications. Let me take a look at it."

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting him to tell me what I feared. "Do you have some kind of doctors' training I don't know about?"

"No, but I should say I know more than you do, Sher."

"Fine," I grouched, knowing he wouldn't stop until he'd seen. And trust me, he was going to see a lot more of me than he'd been think he would. I untied the sleeve straps of my corset, dropping them to the floor before I added the silver corset itself too. My silver skort was the last thing to join the pile, leaving me practically naked in his gaze. I stretched out on the bed, baring my back for his inspection.

"Oh God, Sherlock," he gasped, unable to believe his eyes. I knew what he was seeing all too well. Long white feathery scars laced their way seductively down my back and upper legs. It was hard to imagine one person had gotten all of them at the same time from flaming-hot pieces of metal and various other debris.

"Yeah. Now you know the real reason why I never wore cut-off or sleeveless shirts. Or a proper bathing suit top, for that matter." I pulled up my hair, revealing another scar on the back of my neck, a small white circle. I brushed my hair down onto the side, feeling strangely self-conscious about showing him that one. "And furthermore, the reason I grew my hair out and refused to let anyone cut it."

"Other than L."

I shrugged. "He knew. No one else did, and I was afraid of what they would say. To tell the truth, I'm still-" I clamped my mouth shut, horrified that I had been about to say the words _I'm still afraid of what _you _might say_.

Near, however, being the smart little genius I knew and loved, understood what I'd been about to say. "Relax," he murmured, gently kissing me on the little dot, "You're still perfectly beautiful with or without your scars hidden."

"Near-"

"And no, I'm not just saying that because you're almost naked," he said. I felt his lips tilt up in a smile as he lightly pressed a hand in between my shoulder blades and felt the slightly raised dusting of past injuries. "Now, which one is the one that was bothering you earlier?"

"Um, this one." I pressed my hand to one scar that started halfway down my lower back. His fingers began feeling their way down its length. The two of us blushed as he traced the lowest point, lower than my hips, and back up and around to the raised points right between my hipbones.

"Good Lord, Sherlock, you should really get these tested," he said as he explored the large upraised ends.

"I know, but I don't want to go alone."

"Why not ask Matt? Mello will probably be happy to know he'll be out of their apartment for a change."

I turned around and smiled at Near. "Great idea! I'll go over and ask him in the morning. But first," I said, a glint in my eyes as I kissed him again with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I pressed my body against his, wanting to get as close to him as I could. He pushed me down against the pillows and began leaning down towards me, but suddenly, he pushed himself away.

"Sherlock, get dressed," he growled, facing away from me stiffly. "We aren't doing this tonight."

I blinked in surprise but kissed his cheek briefly before hopping down to obey him. Concern for me was the only thing stopping him tonight, but that would soon be gone, leaving us free to do both what we so desperately wanted to do and what he seemed slightly afraid to do. But one day, I would chase away that fear and make him mine, someday soon...

* * *

_Ace: Happy now, Sherlock?_

_Sherlock: No._

_Ace: Fine. How about I try to put up at least one chapter every day next week while I'm on Spring Break?_

_Sherlock: Better. Mells, if you would._

_Mello: (exasperated sigh) Please review because they give me the power to defeat Sherlock at bets, and get better from butter knife wounds, and all that good crap. (Matt pats him on the head) I'm not a dog, you!_

_(Matt screams and runs out of the room, chased by an angry Mello. Near is playing with Ace's Mickey Mouse Ears, and Sherlock is watching the chaos while Simon beats Matt at the abandoned game.)_

_Ace: (sighs and puts hand on forehead) Thanks for reading and please take Mello seriously. He really does gain the power to beat Sherlock at bets if you review. It also makes Matt get better at Mario Kart; Simon's actually pretty good, so normally he beats Matt._


	12. Ch 11: The Test

_Ace: Well, that's two chapters today. I think I'm off the hook._

_Sherlock: I'd say so. Just don't go off without us again! We missed Savannah too, and I think that would've been fun._

_Simon: Not nearly as much as you'd think._

_Near: Sure, sure._

_Mello: Hey, don't they have a really good chocolate shop on Riverstreet?_

_Ace: Yeah, it's best for fudge._

_Mello: (pouting) Fudge isn't really chocolate._

_Ace: Yeah, well, chocolate isn't real fudge! What now? (Mello glares at her, who screams and hides behind Simon as Sherlock and Near walk away.) Please don't kill me!_

* * *

Chapter Eleven: The Test

The next morning saw me standing in front of a door trying to find the courage to knock. Last night, it had seemed like a good idea to bring Matt along for morale support, but now, under the harsh morning sunlight, I wasn't so certain. I mean, yeah, he was gay, but if I brought him along, I didn't think it would end well, especially if Mells found out.

Holy crap. If Mells found out I was planning to drag his lover along with me today, I'd be screwed. And I mean screwed screwed, not normal I'm-in-trouble screwed; Mello was the single most possessive person I'd ever known, and he was more territorial over Matt than he was about even his chocolate. I turned around, intending to go alone but Matt opened the door before I could get too far. He pulled me in and closed the door behind me. "How'd you know I was coming?" I asked, watching him plop down unenthusiastically on the couch.

"Near called after you left. Said I should keep an eye out for you in case you started chickening out." His voice sounded so sad and pitiful that I sat down beside him and put my arms around his shoulders.

"What's wrong, Matty?"

"I was playing video games last night, and Mello wanted sex, but I wanted to finish the level. He got mad and kicked me out of bed and onto the couch. He's still mad because he's showering alone and hasn't said all of three words to me this morning."

"Want me to help?"

"Please," he said, staring up at me with his patented puppy-dog eyes.

I cleared my throat and loudly announced, with a wink at the redheaded gamer, "Matt's not wearing pants!" Let me tell you, the last time I'd ever seen Mello move that fast was the time BB stole his chocolate bar, and the results of that particular episode is the reason why there was never a repeat performance, not even by me. Furthermore, to my complete and utter embarrassment, he only had on a tight pair of leather shorts. "I think my eyes are bleeding," I confessed, covering my face with my hands.

"Shut up," he muttered darkly. "It's not as if you're any better right now."

I glanced down at myself, seeing the short shorts and cut-off shirt underneath my open jacket. "Right, and with that, I'm going to need to borrow Matt for the day, bye!" I grabbed Matt and dragged him out of the door before Mells could recover himself enough to form a coherent reply.

"Could you please at least try to not have Mells wanting to rip you limb from limb whenever he sees you?"

I looked at him oddly. "I don't try; it just happens that way. Besides, did you see the look on his face? I don't think he's mad at you anymore." Matt snorted, a skeptical look on his face. "Fine, I'll make an effort, okay?"

"Out of curiosity, exactly where to and why are you dragging me off today?"

"Um, I need to go to fertility clinic to have some tests done, and you're coming for morale support."

"You're pregnant?!?"

"No! I need to have tests done to figure out the damage caused by the explosion all those years ago."

"Hm... So you're dragging a gay to a fertility clinic?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Why couldn't Near or Simon have done this instead?"

"Because Near's busy with the Kira case, and I flat-out refused to deal with Simon when he suggests dumb-butt ideas like going back to my hometown, mostly because I have no guarantee he wouldn't kidnap me and take me there when I'm done."

"Why couldn't you have gone alone?"

I was quiet for a long time, unwilling to admit the truth. "I was afraid, Matty. I'm afraid to know exactly what that explosion did to me. I didn't like not knowing, but I could handle that alone. I still don't know if I can take the truth even with someone else there to help me."

His warm hand wormed around mine. His eyes met mine, and he whispered, "It'll all be okay, you just see, Sherlock. I'll be right here for as long as you need me."

The fertility clinic was a scary white building with a cold, clinical-like feeling. If Matt hadn't been there beside me, I think I would have run the other way. He squeezed my hand reassuringly and pulled me in. A bored-looking receptionist greeted us with an evil look. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, um, I'm Sherlock Shayne, and I need tests done for past injuries."

"Three doors down on your left."

"Thank you. Come on, Matty."

He looked at me once we were out of earshot. "You were _way_nicer than you should've been."

"I'm nervous, and when I'm nervous, I'm not really mean to anyone except Mells, but that's a special exception."

"Mm hmm." He sat down on a chair and began a quick game of Solitaire on his iPod. I tapped my fingers nervously on my leg. "Relax, Sherlock. Deep breaths. Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

I smiled at him uneasily, fully convinced that in this case, he was dead wrong...

God. My worst fears had come true. I could feel Matty lead me away, but I wasn't focused on him. The doctor's words still around in my head. Why me? Hadn't I been forced to give up enough? Did I really have to give this up too?

Matt dropped me off at Near's, handing me off to the child-like genius as though I was a sulking girl before waving and disappearing off to what I imagined to be Mello's side. I didn't think about it too hard because I was still freaking out.

"So what' s the verdict?" Nothing. "Sherlock?" Still nothing. "Sherlock, what happened?" he asked, grabbing my shoulders in his desperation to get an answer. On the up side, I didn't punch him like I did to Beyond Birthday all those years ago. Instead, I pushed him away onto his butt and ran into my room. Baskerville lay on my bed, asleep. I slammed the door behind me, briefly waking the dog before he turned over and went back to sleep.

My vision blurred as I sunk to the floor. "Why?" I whispered brokenly, staring at the ceiling but not really seeing it. Instead, I saw the God Mello was so certain existed, and it was not the kind, benevolent, forgiving God he knew. It was a wrathful God, like Kira, angry for my sins, sins I could never repent. That was why He kept punishing me. Because I could never let go of my sins.

"Are you happy now?" I cried, pushing myself up onto the bed, "now that I lost yet another part of myself to my own personal Armageddon in order to make my life even more of a living hell? Or do you want to take the few shards of happiness I still have?" Silence greeted me as tears fell from my cheeks onto the comforter, making small dark wet spots where they would inadvertently land. "Answer me, Kira!"

It was the first time I had ever even remotely considered the fact Kira was practically considered a god by modern society, and it made me sick. It made me sick to realize I was polluting Mello's God by inferencing Kira with him. "Dang you, Kira. Dang you to the deepest, darkest, most vile place in all the afterlives of all the world's religions. There is no place in any kind of paradise fit for the likes of you."

* * *

_(Matt comes back singing the Carosel of Progress song)_

_Matt: It's a great big beautiful tomorrow/ _

_Shining at the end of every day!_

_Mello: (raises fist threateningly) I'll give you a great big beautiful tomorrow! (Matt screams and hides behind Mello). I just threatened you, (Matt nods) and you're hiding behind me? (Nods again) (Mello face-palms himself.)_

_Matt: (In whisper so that Mello can't hear) Remember, reviews help protect me from Mello's promised "great big beautiful tomorrow". Please help the cause!_

_Ace: PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_


	13. Ch 12: The Truth Won't Really Set You

_Ace: Heya, y'all! As promised, here's my first chapter from Spring Break (yes, I count weekends)! Oh, and Mells and I settled our arguement._

_Mello: We decided fudge and chocolate are two entirely separate things and should be treated as such. (muttering under his breath now) Chocolate is so much better though._

_Ace: (sticky sweet) I'm sorry, what was that?_

_Mello: (pales) Nothing, 'O Mighty Lord and Writer._

_(Sherlock walks in carrying Near and stops at seeing Mello cowering behind Matt, who's back to Mario Karting with Simon, which Simon is owning at.) _

_Sherlock: Okay, what happened here?_

_Ace: I reminded Mello of what I can do to him._

_Near: Which is?_

_Ace: Kiss you. (Everyone except Simon and Matt stare at her in astonishment.)_

_Near: (whispering to Sherlock) Can she even do that?_

_Sherlock: Yeah. She's the writer. (He whimpers and the pair slowly back out of the room, closely followed by Mello.)_

_Ace: Okay, Si, my turn. (snatches controller from him)_

_Simon: Wait, what?!? (sighs and face-palms himself at the sight of the screen) In the meantime, please enjoy this next chapter since Ace is too busy playing Mario Kart for me to finish introducing the story._

* * *

Chapter Twelve: The Truth Won't Really Set You Free

_Two children ran around outside the window, a boy and a girl. They were playing tag on the girl's recommendation, and she was 'it'. He was older than she was by a few years, but their intelligence level was about the same. His long red hair swished back and forth over his impudent blue eyes, but he just shook his head to fix it. On the other hand, the girl's razor-straight white hair swirled around her face, somehow never getting in her hazel eyes, to the annoyment of the boy._

_That annoyment and the game were forgotten as she tripped and fell behind him. He turned, coming immediately to her side. Sniffling, she straightened her leg out for inspection. I began moving closer, but he took care of it with a band-aid and a quick kiss over top, to her delight._

"_Momma!" she cried, seeing me. Her face lit up, and she smiled, but she never took her hand off the boy._

"_I know this is horrible timing, but you two gotta get to school," I said, pain hidden in my voice. He noticed it and gave me an odd look, but the girl was happy to push herself to her feet and take our hands in her small ones._

"_I promise, Mom, one day I'll take up all that work from everyone that you keep in the attic and beat Kira. I'll catch him, and I'll kill him, just like he did to Mello, Matt, and Near," he said to me, blue eyes shining in excitement._

_I slapped him. "Never ever do I want to hear you say that again, do you understand me? Kira already took both of your parents from this world and her dad from me, but if he took you two as well, I don't know how I would live with myself."_

_He rolled his eyes at me. "Relax, Mom. We're gonna grow up first, and the two of us will take it on together and avenge everyone, even Godfather L!"_

_I bit my lip. I still had a good lot of years to talk them out of this, but now we were almost at the school gates. "Fine," I huffed, "but promise me you won't breathe a word of it to anyone else."_

"_Promise," the girl repeated, eyes wide._

_I leveled my gaze at the boy. "Fine, I promise too," he grumbled, flicking his hair away._

"_Good," I said, catching them both up in a hug. "Look after each other and stay safe, okay? Fly under the radar. Remember, to get noticed is death." They nodded and walked away from me and through the school gates, hand in hand._

_I never should have let them go. Because in those next few moments, before my very eyes, they would be killed. And I was privileged enough in Kira's eyes to stand there and watch them die. To watch my daughter and adopted son die. To watch Near, Matt, and Mello be taken from this world yet again. To once again watch as the people I loved most kick the bucket and find myself powerless to stop it._

_The boy was the first to die. He stopped dead, his hands flying to his chest. His eyes widened, the blue finding my hazel, before he collapsed there on the pavement. "No!" the girl screamed, clutching his cold hands. "Wake up! Mom needs you! Dad and Uncles Mells and Matt need you! Wake up! I can't do it alone. I can't end it without you even with Godfather's help!"_

_Something clicked nearby, setting off a fiery inferno. It roared and set its sights upon the dirt-streaked, teary-eyed girl kneeling there beside her adopted brother. She didn't see it until it was too late. She managed a brief scream before it devoured it her forever. She stretched a hand out towards the gate, her face broken into a million little pieces._

"_Momma!"_

* * *

'No!" I screamed, trying to sit up but finding myself tangled up in more limbs than there should've been, even taking the dog into account. Breathing hard, I twisted around to see Near staring at me with sympathetic eyes. He pulled me down, letting me bury my head in his chest and cry into his pajama shirt.

He didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around me and stroked down my back. There was the sound of far-off thunder in the distance, but he didn't react to it. He just patted my head and tightened his arms the slightest bit. Even after all I'd done to him, he would still be there when I'd need him most, there to catch my tears and provide security. So I made the effort to tell him the truth.

"Doctor said I was barren. The metal cording that caused the scar cut the organs down there so the sperm can't go up, plus the points on it punctured the ovaries so that as I bled from the wound, I was bleeding out egg cells. I could've regrown some, maybe, but I didn't." My face must've been bright red by the end of the speech, but I kept it hidden against his chest.

His arms tightened around me. "Sherlock," he whispered quietly, but he didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. The simple fact he was there beside me even after I'd violently pushed him away spoke all the words he needed to.

There was one more thing I had to tell him, but words wouldn't suffice this time. I got up from the bed, gently untangling our bodies from each other in order to do so. I grabbed a mechanical pencil and an eraser from my bag just in time for a loud boom of thunder to sound. Near shot out of bed and clung to my arm. He gave me a sheepish look, and I kissed his forehead. I wasn't mad at him for being afraid; it was just how he was.

I led him back to the bed, letting him curl up against my side. I had pulled out a sketchbook while he had almost tackled me and now opened it to the next clean page. First, to practice my sketching and because I'd really liked the kid, and I sketched the boy, Mello and Matt's child (Sorry, Matt, but you would've been the girl in that scenario). Near watched me quietly, not attempting to stand over my work in the slightest.

"How'd Matt handle the day?" he asked quietly, playing with his hair since he didn't want to distract me by playing with mine.

I finished the sketch and eyed it critically. The boy had a lot of Mello in him, but that was because I hadn't colored it in. "Everyone thought he was my boyfriend even after we explained he was gay, but I think he was much more amused than annoyed." I flipped the page and started again.

He chuckled. "Funny. Maybe you should give him that last drawing as a consolation; it did look a lot like Mello, to be honest."

"Nah, it's their kid, and I'd rather not have to explain that one."

"Why not? Matt'd probably think it's cute."

"Yeah, but (A), he already got entertainment from my crazy fantasy dreamland, and (B) the odds are that Mello would _not_."

Near laughed, a rare event that would only seem to occur when I was around to cause it. "You got a good point there, Sherlock."

"I don't mind if you call me Olivia. That cat's already out of the bag at this point."

"Do you prefer Olivia to Sherlock?"

I shrugged. "I haven't been called by my true name for so long that I sometimes even forget it's mine."

"Sherlock it is then," he murmured, kissing my cheek. I smiled and tilted the sketchbook so he could see.

He glanced at it and froze. His eyes followed the sketch, and I could see the gears in his mind turning as he processed the picture. "Holy crap, Sherlock, is that?"

"Yeah," I whispered sadly. "I saw her too tonight." The little white-haired girl from my dream had made another impromptu appearance holding a delicate chain attached to a small silver shackle around her ankle.

* * *

_Matt: Woo! I won! (throws down controller triumphantly.)_

_Simon: (disgruntled) Yeah, because she just kept playing all the races in reverse!_

_Ace: Your point being? Face it, Si, you lost._

_Simon: REMATCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Matt: YOU'RE ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Yes, that one was intentional. :P)_

_Ace: (sighs) When will they ever learn?_

_Mello: (coming back in) I mean, seriously? I miss having Matty time._

_(The pair stare at each other for a moment, eyes wide.)_

_Ace: We're actually agreeing on something?!?!_

_Mello: Let's not comment on it any further and vow never to speak of this again._

_Ace: Agreed._


	14. Dog Scraps 1: The Bridge

_Near: This chapter was never supposed to exist. _

_Sherlock: In the story, I was supposed to fluctuate between Simon and Near, but I took control of the situation, so much so that Ace felt really bad for him _

_Simon: Me, that is. She doesn't feel sorry for Near in the slightest, really since he gets the girl_

_Matt: But you see, she couldn't quite let go of the storyline all the way, so she wrote the idea out as a Dog Scraps._

_Mello: You see, Dog Scraps chapters are chapters or storylines that either were originally in the plan but ended up dropped as the story wore on or completely random storylines Ace got that don't really fit in with the rest of the story._

_Near: They aren't even real chapters, so you could go ahead and skip all of them if you want to._

_Sherlock: In fact, none of them will be told from my perspective to add a little variety to the mix._

_Simon: To tell the truth, they aren't even particularly revelent to the story!_

_Matt: Still, if you do read it, Ace and the rest of us claim no responsibility for any of what is produced in this or any Dog Scraps or how they may impact your view of the story._

_Mello: They are, after all, just Dog Scraps. (whispers to Matt) Thank God, she's finally done having us read from the cards._

_Ace: Mello, could we get through one chapter without any of your crap?_

_Matt: No._

_Ace: Thank you, Captain Obvious. Go off and play with Lieutenant Sarcasm over there._

_Mello: I am not the uke in this relationship!!!!!! (Everyone stares at Mello.) Wow, that was kinda loud, wasn't it?_

_Ace: Yeah. Moving on now!_

* * *

Dog Scraps: The Bridge

**Simon**

Olivia. My best friend. My comrade in arms. My willing accomplice. My most reliable deputy. But for the past three years, she'd been my most persistent ghost. In all my years of tracking people. I'd never come across someone whose life had been quite so throughly erased. If not for my fading memories of the haunting and haunted girl, I almost would've though her only a dream. A very convincing dream, true, but a dream all the same.

I did say almost. There were slight traces of her, tidbits that kept me going on this seemingly endless goose chase. She was in England, I think. She'd been there for some years now if I was right. If I wasn't, she could be in Antarctica for all I knew. I really hoped I wasn't wrong.

Only one member had wanted to come with me overseas, a newer girl to the gang world, Housten. Her black eyes and hair were never far from my sight, and the others back in the 'States didn't mind taking orders from her. I didn't know her age or her past; I didn't even know her last name, but I didn't particularly care. She didn't know mine either.

"Housten, I'm going out. Stay here and keep an eye on the transfers for me."

She looked up from the computer, pulling out a headphone from one ear. "Sure thing, Boss," she said, taking my recently vacated chair in front of the monitor showing various account numbers and the rapid movement of dollar signs, and they were large dollar signs too. For almost any other gang leader, those numbers would've made them happy, but not me. All I wanted was my Olivia back.

I got on my new demonic motorcycle, all metal, shiny, and loud. I grimaced as I pulled on the leather jacket and a biker's helmet, a jet-black thing that wouldn't protect me in either a street fight or an accident, but they were my cover. My only hope in a street fight would be the slim handgun concealed in some of the elaborated piping, and as for an accident, well, I'd just have to hope Kira hadn't taken a sudden disliking to me.

I gunned the engine, wincing at the loud roar and wishing for my custom hollow Plexiglas frame one at home. It was practically silent, handled like a dream, and was safe as houses. _Still_, I mused to myself as I wove through traffic, _at least this death-trap has as much speed as the ones at home_. I wanted to rip my helmet off and blaze headlong down a deserted street, but I was smart. I didn't even do that on my home-turf anymore, never mind on unfamiliar, possibly enemy streets. There was a reason why I was still alive, after all.

I stopped the bike at a coffeehouse and dismounted, absently locking up before I walked over and selected a table on the small patio area. I'd planned on only staying for a few moments, but all those plans flew right out the window when the six-some of kids walking by started arguing in front of me, all of them looking to be about my age.

There were three boys- no wait, scratch that, four; one of the kids I'd thought was a girl crossed his arms, revealing a lack of boobs, proving himself a boy beyond a shadow of a doubt. There was a redhead boy with orange goggles plastered to his side, a little white-haired kid who clung to one of the girls, a taller black-haired boy with red demon eyes, and the blond boy aforementioned for being almost a girl in addition to the little perky but sallow blond girl who was making doe eyes at the demon-boy and the brunette who would occasionally glance down at the white-haired boy as though she was afraid he would get lost in the crowd, which was a valid concern given his size and child-likeness.

All in all, they weren't the kind of kids I would normally pay any attention to. I wouldn't even have been paying attention to them now if I hadn't spotted about the brunette, something important. She walked with a lilting, almost dancing movement, one I recognized as a ready gang walk, perfect for encounters with impulsive people and possible enemies. I had found Olivia.

But it wasn't Olivia at the same time. She looked like my Olivia, but I could tell this Olivia didn't belong to the gang world, to me. She belonged to these kids, to the little white-haired kid who clung to her as tightly as a drowning person would his life raft and was so carefully watched in return. Olivia wouldn't welcome me if I revealed myself to her. She was just as dead in the explosion all those years ago.

I got on the motorcycle angrily and gunned the throttle, not caring as everyone watched the boy with the screaming silver death-trap. They wouldn't see it as anything else, not even Olivia. People saw only what they wanted to see, and Olivia obviously didn't want to see me. I drove like a suicidal maniac, not stopping until I was underneath a bridge and out of road. I threw the bike down and glared out the polluted Thames, cloudy with who-knows-what.

After a while, a warm hand set itself down on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, not wanting to talk about it. "Go away, Housten. Don't you have to watch the transfer?"

"It finished hours ago, Boss," she said, sitting down beside me. I didn't acknowledge her in any way, not wanting her to know what had happened back there. To my dismay, she proved herself to be much more insightful than I thought she was. "You saw her back there, didn't you?"

"Who?" I asked with a sinking heart.

"That girl you've been looking for, the old deputy."

I swallowed hard. "Yeah. She was with some other kids. She looked happy enough, but she's still badly broken up inside. If I revealed myself to her, I'd likely undo everything that little white-haired shrimp did for her."

She patted my shoulder. "I understand. She wants you, and you want her, but you aren't what she needs right now. She needs that white-haired kid right now, whoever you're talking about. Maybe you'll be able to reconnect with her one day on her terms, but until then, you'll have to act as though she's dead."

I glared at her, sizing her up. "When did you get so smart?" I asked, my eyes narrowed. She smiled half-heartedly, trying to cheer me up.

"I've always been _that_ _smart_; you've just never noticed me before."

I pushed myself up, eying her. "Housten?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"One, don't call me Boss. I'm to be Simon to you, okay?" I waited until she nodded before I continued. "Two, I think it's time I nominated another deputy. You know what, forget deputy. It's lieutenants from now on, and you're mine now, if you don't mind."

She put a hand on my elbow, much like Olivia used to. But Olivia was gone now. All I had was this strange, fragile new thing growing between Housten and me. "I don't mind at all, Bo- Simon."

* * *

_Mello: Please, no cards ever again! It's not worth it!_

_Ace: Yeah, well, too bad. Every time I write a Dog Scraps, you'll all be reading from the cards! Mwahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Mello: No, Matty! Save us all from the horrible card-reading!_

_Matt: Aw, Mells, don't be such a baby. It's just reading._

_Mello: (sniffle) Yeah, well, if I'm reading, I have a hard time working in my sarcastic comments and various crap._

_Everyone except Mello and Matt: EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_(The pair stare at us all with hurt expressions.)_

_Mello: Well, um, if that's how you feel, I think I'm gonna go find a nice room to go eat chocolate in. Matty, you're coming too._

_Matt: Why?_

_Mello: BECAUSE YOU'RE BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE, THAT'S WHY!!!!_

_(Everyone stares at him with wide eyes, including Housten, who just came in and sat in Simon's lap.)_

_Ace: What!?! I've been replaced!?!_

_Simon: No. I never said I liked you in that way._

_Ace: Who am I supposed to hide behind now?_

_Simon: (shrug) I don't know, maybe that L character everyone except Housten and me seems so fixated on._

_Ace: Thanks, Si, you're the best! (runs and hides behind L who randomly appeared, eating cake.)_

_L: Remember, review and I'll get more cake._

_Housten: Um, L, I don't think that's really gonna be good incentive for anyone to review but you._

_L: (sniffle) But I like cake._

_Ace: (hugs L) It's okay, L. I'll give you cake. (He smiles at her. She leans down and whispers to Simon, a video game addict) The cake is a lie!!!!!!!!_

_Matt: (yelling) Did I hear a Portal reference?_

_Ace and Simon: No!!!!!!!!!!! (mutter under breath) Yes. _

_(:P to L. Unless we get more reviews, I'm gonna force him to play Portal. Mwahahahahahahahahaha! Yes, I know, I'm evil and a bad influence, and all that crap. Remember, stay in drugs, don't do skool, and I absolutely swear to drunk, I'm not Kira. Probably.)_


	15. Ch 13: Forgiveness Isn't Really Divine

L: Where's my cake?

_Ace: No one reviewed, so no cake for you!_

_L: (gives Ace panda-cub eyes)_

_Ace: Don't complain to me. Take up the matter with our "loyal" fanbase._

_L: (glares) I'm changing my percentages now. The entire world is now at a 50.49% chance for being Kira because they didn't give me cake._

_Ace: The cake is delicious and moist._

_L: I hate you._

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Forgiveness Isn't Always Divine

In the morning when I awoke, Near was gone, no doubt to the computers or his little play area. I stretched lazily and reached over to check my phone. Five messages from Simon, which I wasn't going to respond to and deleted without opening them, and one from Matt, which I listened to.

"Hey, Sherlock, it's... late, and I figured I probably wouldn't get you anyway. Mells wasn't happy with me for this-"

A muffled shout from the background came in, "You're a useless sap!"

Matt's voice was abruptly muffled too, likely from a hand over the speakers. "Yeah, but I'm _your _useless sap, and anyway, Mells, please be quiet! I'm on the phone!" His voice became unmuffled as he continued. "Back to what I was saying, I got you a couple of plane tickets back to the UK; Heathrow to be exact. Mells and I are gonna be busy over the next several days, so we can't come, but I bet Near wouldn't mind traveling with you. Just don't expect Whammy's to be the same place it was, Sherlock. Good luck, and we'll see you when you get back."

"Aw, do we have to?"

"Yeah, now shut up! I'm almost done." The message beeped, signaling the end of the message length. I frowned. If Matt got plane tickets, where'd he put them? My fingers raced through the buttons, calling him back.

"Y'ello?" His voice sounded sleepy, and I could hear Mello complaining in the background, who he quickly hushed.

"Sorry, Matt. It's Sherlock, and I'll make it as quick as I can," I said smoothly, not wanting to even remotely thing about what they had been doing beforehand.

I heard a faint, "It's Sherlock?!? Gimme that!" and then a yelp as Mello took the Matt's phone from him. "Sherlock, you're interrupting my quiet time with Matt, so I'm only going to say this once. What the hell do you want?!?"

"Matt got plane tickets, but he never told me where he left them in the message he left."

"I thought he'd been forgetting something last night. He had me leave 'em in your apartment on the counter before-"

I was quick to cut him off. "Please don't finish that sentence. I don't need to know what went on afterwards, let alone want to think about it."

"Sherlock, do me a favor, and don't get killed while you and Near are gone. And try to keep the little sheep out of trouble too, I guess."

I swallowed, finding a lump in my throat that hadn't been there before. Mello asking me and Near to be safe was like seeing him without chocolate- simply impossible. "Sure thing."

"It's not like I care or anything," he huffed. I could see him rolling his eyes in my head as he said that. "If Near died, the Kira case'd get harder, and he wouldn't be too much use if you died either. I'm kinda riding a little too much on the little albino shrimp for him to take a mental vacation right now."

"Of course. Um, I'm gonna leave a note-sort of thing for Matt in the apartment. Could you grab it for him when you get the chance? You're welcome to help yourself to the crap in the pantry and fridge if you want."

"Yeah, sure, whatever, he muttered, hanging up. I'd hoped to say good-bye to Matt, but he was pretty smart. He'd understand what Mello hadn't allowed me to say.

As I'd predicted, Near was in the computer room glued to a monitor. "Hey, can I use this for a sec?" I asked, pointing to a scanner.

He looked over briefly. "Sure. You don't need to ask to use something like that, Sherlock."

I smiled as I copied the pictures I'd done last night and snagged them from the 'finished' bin confidently. I pulled a pack of what Matt called the holy-crap-how-many-colored-pencils-are-in-that-thing size (Mello had a much more colorful name for it: holy-bleep-how-many-bleeping-colored-pencils-can-you-bleeping-have-in-that-bleeping-thing) from my waistband. Don't worry, it was under my belt and above my jeans. A few minutes and another photocopy later for my own collection, I had a beautiful drawing of the boy from last night's dream in his full Technicolor glory. "Near, I gotta run to my apartment for a few moments to get some things, but I'll be back to pick you up soon, 'kay?"

"Sure thing, Sherlock,' he said, explosively crashing a Transformer robot into a Barbie doll and popping its (the Transformer, oddly enough, not the Barbie) head off, much to his dismay.

"Near," I sighed as I put the Transformer's head back on, "How many times have I told you Barbies are pretty darn close to indestructible, especially against Optimus Prime?"

"A lot," he answered, his face slipping into a pout, "but they aren't Mello-proof"

"And, again, I'll say that I don't quite think there's anything that truly is *pop* Mello-proof," I told him, presenting the fixed robot to its delighted owner.

"Thank you, Sherlock,' he said, pulling the two toys apart so he could smash them together again, but I caught his arm.

"Hold up there Near. Give me the Barbie," I commanded gently.

He balked. "Why?"

"One, I don't really think playing with that indestructible Barbie is going to bring you any fun today, and two, If you break it while I'm gone, I'm not going to be around to fix it."

He thought about it for a moment. "Fine," he said, surrendering the unclothed plastic doll to me.

"Um, Near, why doesn't Barbie have any clothes on?"

There was a long pause. "Should she have clothes on?" he asked innocently, a wicked glint in his eye.

I sighed exasperatedly. I knew what he was getting at there, but I refused to deal with it right now. "Probably," I said, sauntering away.

* * *

In my home, everything looked almost exactly as I had left it. The one anomaly here was the small folder of paper on the table with a sticky note proclaiming them as "plane tickets" in Matt's messy handwriting.

"Sherlock, why is there a naked Barbie in your purse?"

"Holy crap!" I yelped, twisting around to see Simon (what the flip was _Simon_ doing here?!?) standing behind me, holding the doll up by her leg. "How'd you find me?"

he smiled faintly. "Walking up the stairs after I biked over here on my motorcycle. You left the door unlocked."

"No, how did you know I lived here?"

"I called Matt. Mello was pretty exasperated with all the phone calls and said if I wanted to talk to you, to go over to your apartment and talk to you there." He shrugged. "Now, the Barbie? What's up with that?"

"Um, it's Near's," I said, blushing.

"So Near plays with naked Barbies?!? How old is he, four?"

"No," I said, snatching the doll back. "He has Peter Pan Syndrome."

He raised an eyebrow. "nice. Guess I know what you are to him, then."

I froze. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if he has Peter Pan Syndrome, then wouldn't he see you as more of a caretaker?" he said slowly, thinking it through. I growled at him in a sudden fit of randomness I decided to act upon rather than admit he was probably right.

"Don't you have something to say, Simon? Something important?"

"Not that I can think of," he hedged, brow clouded as he thought about this one too. Looks like I'd have to take the Mello approach to this one. I stalked towards him as he back away from me at the same pace. His back bumped against the wall, and I leaned over him, trapping him there.

"Are you sure about that?" I purred evilly, looking up into his eyes with all the gravitational force of a black hole.

"Sorry 'bout the home thing,' he gasped, looking for a way out. I smirked and swiveled my hips so that he could escape. It amused me to see that even after all these years, Simon was still claustrophobic.

"It's okay. I forgive you, sort of." I turned to leave, tossing the sketch onto the counter for Mells to pick up later.

"Wait, Sherlock," he panted, making an impromptu grab for my arm that I easily avoided. I turned towards him, my eyes questioning. "I'm sending over a couple of my people to escort you and keep you safe since you're still my deputy. They'll explain all of what that entails when they pick you up later, okay?"

"Fine, but I'm still not pleased with you."

He smiled wryly. "I wouldn't rather have it any other way."

* * *

"Near, what are you doing?!?"

He looked up from the pant-less Ken he had pinned between two Lego structures stuck to the floor just in time for the doll's head to shot off towards me. I caught it reflexively, surprised to find my gang reflexes were just as sharp as they had been when I'd been a part of the Cottonmouths. "You never said I couldn't play with Ken! He broke my Kira," he sniffled, showing me the spaceman with the missing leg sadly.

I fixed the toy quickly and handed it back to Near. I then showed him the beheaded Barbie from earlier. "Simon did it," I explained to him.

"Gotta remember to thank Simon later," he murmured, snapping Barbie's head onto Ken's body.

I opened my mouth to tell him off about that, then closed it, deciding to take that up with him another time. "Ready to go? Simon sent us some escorts." He nodded, following along behind me and clutching my sleeve.

Two familiar people waited for us outside on a pair of motorcycles, a boy and a girl. The boy took his helmet off, throwing his long black hair to the side and flashing me a fanged smile. "Beyond Birthday?" I gasped, unable to believe my eyes.

"Hello, Sherlock," he said, the words flowing easily from his lips. "Long time, no see."

* * *

_Mello: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO L?!?!?!? (Drops shopping bags full of chocolate since Matt'd forced him to get his own chocolate for once.)_

_Ace: (looks up from playing Portal on Matt's lap) Nothin'. It was the fanbase's fault._

_L: She didn't give me cake. (sniffle)_

_BB: Just give him the effing cake already!_

_Ace: He can get his own cake!_

_Ivy: Hey, where's Sherlock and Near?_

_Ace: Vacation to Disney. (continues playing)_

_Mello: GET THE HELL OFF MY BOYFRIEND, YOU WRITER-WHORE!!!!_

_Ace: He said the whore word!_

_Simon and Housten: Fail._

_Ace: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! EVERYONE EXCEPT MELLO, MATT, AND L, OUT!!!!!_

_Mello: I SAID GET OFF MY BOYFRIEND!_

_Matt: PAY ATTENTION TO THE GAME!_

_L: I want cake. Maybe if you review now, she'll give me cake. (shrugs) Can't help to try. (Turns around to watch strange three-some fight between Ace, Mello, and Matt attempting to restrain the two and pulls popcorn out of the kitchen.) Yummy. Movie Theater Style Buttered Popcorn. Om nom nom (eating noises continue as the fighting continues)._


	16. Ch 14: Back to Square One, Sort of

_L: I am very ashamed of all of you. Still no reviews, so Ace-kun still won't give me cake. WHY MUST YOU TORTURE ME IN THIS WAY?!?!_

_Ace: Fine, L. You can have some frosting_

_L: (perks up instantly at the mention of frosting, which is really just pure sugar in a little squeeze tube) Thank you, Ace-kun!_

_Ace: (sighs as she hands him a container of frosting) I swear, L, if someone offered you the choice of a detective case or cake, I think you'd choose the cake._

_L: Probably._

_Ace: Anyway, since I tied Mello and Matty up and left them in my closet, it's been really quiet. Mainly because Near's sulking since Mello told him the Easter Bunny wasn't real and Sherlock's busy comforting him. But, that's not really a problem, since it lets me give you this chapter now!_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Back to Square One, Sort of

BB didn't give me a chance to recover before he was yanking me to his motorcycle. I planted my feet and smacked his wrist. He glared at me with glowing red eyes, eyes I was sure were the last things several people had seen in this world. "You're coming with me, Sherlock."

"No, I'm not."

"Simon entrusted me with your safety, and I'm not going to let you get yourself killed over Near. He'll be fine; Ivy's got him."

"Screw you," I hissed, breaking away and running over to the bike with Near and the slim little fallen angel, Ivy. He saw me and ran over, clutching me close enough to make me think he was trying to hide from Ivy and Beyond Birthday. I patted him soothingly, but his arms only tightened around me.

I looked up to see BB stalking towards us, his face twisted in anger. I had a sudden flash of memory; L's voice warning me about Beyond Birthday when I'd first started hanging around with him. _"I see you and Beyond Birthday are friends. I'm going to warn you about him since it seems only fair. He gets angry really easily and is quick to turn violent. Normally, I wouldn't condone the friendship, but since you used to be part of a gang, I don't think he'll be anything you can't handle." _I don't think L had ever thought I'd have to protect anyone else from his darker, younger twin.

Ivy gently laid a hand on his arm. "BB, let 'em be. Sherlock's a perfectly good driver, and I don't see how who she rides with would make a difference on her safety. I'll ride with you."

To my surprise, he calmed under her touch in a way I'd never seen before with him; it was the same kind of calm that came over Near during a thunderstorm when he was snuggled against my side or Mello when Matt would run his hands along the blond's body, which was something I'd rather _never _have to ever see again for the rest of my existence.

"Fine, as long as we're sitting together on the plane."

She smiled. "Of course," she murmured, running her hand down his arm, which caused him to shiver under her touch. Okay, what the hell was I missing in this relationship? Something had changed between them since Whammy's, and I wanted to know what. "Here," she said, turning to me and tossing her helmet. "See you there!" She winked and got on behind BB, wrapping her arms around his waist as he sped away.

I passed the helmet to Near with an expectant look. He looked confusedly at me, so I plopped it on his head. "I'm expendable," I explained, patting the top of the helmet, "no matter what they or Simon may say otherwise. You're not." I got on the bike, loving the engine's roar beneath me as I tested the throttle. Near got on behind me and clutched my waist tightly. 'Hold on," I said grimly. "I'm not one to drive slowly."

* * *

When I stopped the motorcycle, we were at the airport, and Near made no move to either release me or get up. He seemed to be scared stiff. "You okay?" I asked, twisting around to rub him soothingly between his shoulder blades.

"Your driving is quite possibly the scariest, most insane thing I've ever experienced," he whispered, ducking down to bury his face in my hair.

I frowned. "If you don't like the way I drive," I muttered, towing him over to where Ivy and BB had just pulled up and towing my bike along beside me, "then don't get in or on with me and stay off the sidewalk."

"Having a fight?" Ivy asked, slipping her legs back together from around the bike and sauntering over. Good grief, when had the girl turned from a sweet innocent little angel into _this_, this sex toy on legs? I'd never seen BB look twice at a girl for lustful reasons before when we were at Whammy's, but now he looked at her like, like- Like he was undressing her with his eyes and was seconds away from making love to her right here in the middle of the street.

Holy crap, what in the name of the Holy Hell was I thinking?!? Ivy and Beyond Birthday had been friends for years. He couldn't feel anything more than simple friendship towards her, right? Right?

"No," I muttered, aware of everyone's concern over my spaciness today, but finding myself unable to resist eying the pair with an appraising look in order to reassess their relationship. "Near made a comment, that's all."

"About?" Ivy asked as she speed-walked us through the airport with Security watching warily. Obviously the pair were familiar to the employees and were not to be annoyed. As if that wasn't scary enough, the fact they seemed to watch Ivy just as much, if not more than, BB, a serial-killer type of individual, was downright terrifying. What had I missed while I was off living the "normal" human life?

"Nothing," I answered innocently. "Why is it that we're allowed to waltz by Security without bags while they're acting all suspicious of us?"

"The Cottonmouths gained quite a reputation while you were gone, Sherlock. Their methods may be questionable, but since their motives are pure, they were granted international amnesty, no questions asked. As known members of that gang, we enjoy the perks of our positions- and enjoy the hospitality of the Airport Security itching to arrest us for the least little thing, of course." BB smiled wryly at his words as he looked around and spotted a particularly interested and overly watchful guard. He smirked, flashing the guard a good look at his fangs and badly startling the poor man.

Ivy frowned at his "joke" and smacked him on the arm as we boarded the plane. "Behave, Beyond Birthday. We can't get banned from _another _airport."

"You got banned from an airport?" Near asked, eyes gleaming with a childish glee.

Ivy shrugged, pushing BB down in a seat in the row ahead of us before plopping down beside him. "Three or four. I can't remember which, but Simon keeps track of that detail. We won't have to worry though. The ones we're in trouble at are all in the continental US, and Simon didn't book at any of them."

"Okay," I said, interrupting the question I could already see forming on Near's lips. "Let's try to sleep now, before you get any ideas you're going to regret later. Maybe if we sleep, the jet lag won't hit us quite so hard."

He gave in easily, likely a result of the late night he'd had last night, snuggling up against my chest once he'd put up the armrests. I kissed the top of his spiky-haired white head before cushioning my own head against the window and falling asleep myself.

* * *

I woke several hours later to an all-too-familiar phenomenon that had ofter occurred over the course of my many trips with L. The plane had landed, waking me, but Near still slumbered against me. "Hello, sleepyheads, er, sleepyhead!" Ivy trilled as she looked over the seat at us, correcting herself when she saw Near wasn't yet awake. "Want me to-" she asked, jerking her head at his sleeping form.

I shook my head. "I'll carry him. I've done it on plane trips before. Could you just help me with doors and stuff?"

"Of course, Sherlock. We're not gonna abandon 'ya now. We're your friends," BB chipped in, winking at me with his previous animosity apparently forgotten for now. I nodded, Near around until he was in more or less of a bridal position for carrying. He didn't stir any more than what was the barest minimum required to bury his face in the crook of my neck. His lips twitched up into a smile against my skin as he took in my scent. BB had a poker face , but while he'd always been good at hiding his emotions, Ivy wasn't. The look on her face was a frightening mixture of calculating and Holy-beep-are-they-together?. Nevertheless, she and her companion fell in at my shoulder.

After we'd run into some slight trouble with airport security for my "kidnapping of a small child", Ivy and BB brought us to a small safe house owned by the Cottonmouths for foreign operation purposes. I made my way to the bedroom they'd proclaimed as mine, gently set Near down, and promptly collapsed upon the bed beside him. Ivy came in, an apologetic look on her face, and cleared her throat, but I beat her to the punch.

"Please, no rules or any other crap tonight. Unless the world will explode if you don't tell me, I don't want to know about it 'til tomorrow. Write it down and leave it in here in an obvious place, and I'll deal with it when I wake up. I'm still badly jet-lagged and wanna sleep some of it off with Near." I rolled over, closing my eyes and putting my arms around my own personal Sleeping Beauty.

I didn't even end up staying awake long enough to hear her response. I was simply too far gone.

* * *

_Beyond Birthday: I can't believe you made me go from serial killer to hopeless sucker._

_Ivy: I rather like it._

_Ace: What the?!? I thought I told you to get out!_

_Simon: We thought you were kidding._

_Housten: Yeah, didn't you threaten to have Mello adopted by the Humane Society for being such a bitch when he spoiled Near's dreams about the Easter Bunny and Santa? And here he is, still here and Humane Society Adoption-less_

_Ace: I'm not kidding about you all getting out of my house! I can't put up with you right now! Go hang out in Si's base or something._

_Collective: Okay. (walk out)_

_L: Can I have more frosting?_

_Ace: If more people review._

_L: PLEASE REVIEW! I'M DYING HERE!_


	17. Dog Scraps 2: Missing

_L: This was created at five in the morning while Ace was listening to "Missing" by _Evanescence _(studio version) as an alternate video. _

_Ace: I don't own anything related to the song or the band or anything else there either. (sniffle)_

_Mello: As per usual, it is not required to read this chapter; you may just skip it altogether if you so wish. _

_Near: Ace is not responsible for any unintended results of this thingymabob. _

_Sherlock : It is, after all, just Dog Scraps._

_Matt: Warning! - Contains heavy foreshadowing and possible spoilers._

_Mello: God , I hate the cards!_

_Matt: Aw , do I need to comfort you?_

_Ace: Ugh. Please. Back into the closet with you! (Shoves gay boys into closet, fully appreciating double meaning behind that)_

_L: Can I have cake now?_

_Ace: Yes; Cali came through for you._

_L: Yay! Thank you, Cali-kun!_

* * *

Dog Scraps 2: Missing

Key:

_Italicized_- Lyrics

_(Italicized)_- Song notation description

Word- Video

(Word)- Video commands for scene changes

_(C#)_- Chorus line, reference back

_(Intro)_

Sherlock enters a bedroom in a jeans and a black tee. She lies down in the bed and curls up as though asleep. She turns faint and another Sherlock in a black dress appears in a plastic chair alongside. She looks up in time for the song to begin.

_Please please forgive me_

She closes her eyes and turns away.

_But I won't be home again_

(Cut to Simon lying in bed asleep)

_Maybe someday you'll look up_

He rolls over onto his back with his eyes barely open

_And barely conscious, you'll say to no one_

He mouths the words along with the song.

_Isn't something missing?_

(Cut to a coffee shop. Sherlock sits outside on the patio watching the crowds)

_You won't cry for my absence I know_

Simon walks across the street and Sherlock begins to get up.

_You forgot me long ago_

Housten walks up and kisses Simon on the cheek.

_Am I that unimportant?_

Sherlock turns her head away and her hair swirls around to cover her face. Simon and Housten put their arms around each other and begin to walk away.

_Am I so insignificant?_

(Freeze scene except for Sherlock, who's mouthing the words)

_Isn't something missing?_

_Isn't someone missing me?_

(Cut to graveyard. Sherlock hides under a black umbrella. The sky is a murky gray and there are two coffins standing before open graves. One has a small card that reads "Mother" and the other one has one reading "Father".)

_(C1) Even though I'm the sacrifice_

The coffins are lowered into the ground as she watches, holding back tears.

_(C2) You won't try for me, not now_

She walks up to the now covered graves and lays a single rose on each one.

_(C3) Though I'd die to know you love me_

She pats the gravestones and looks around. Rain begins to fall around her.

_(C4) I'm all alone_

She turns and leaves the site with a tear falling from her eyes.

_(C5) Isn't someone missing me?_

(Scene fades and changes to Sherlock and Simon at the airport. Simon's airplane is about to leave, and she's waving at him as he walks away.)

_(Brief Instrumental)_

_Please please forgive me_

_But I won't be home again_

Simon turns as though he hears something suspicious.

_I know what you do to yourself_

He is then rushed by two assassins, fighting furiously.

_I breathe deep and cry out_

Sherlock screams and reaches for him but is held back by two security guards.

_Isn't something missing?_

_Isn't someone missing me?_

(Cut to Sherlock running from the bomb in her house. The house is on fire, and random things fall while on fire as the song continues. She has a few scratches on her, and tears and singes in her clothes.)

_(C1-5)_

_And if I bleed, I'll bleed_

(Sherlock is now sitting on the fire truck with a blanket around her. One cheek is covered in soot and her hair is singed. There is a long red cut slowly leaking blood around her belly and sides. She is staring blankly at the camera.)

_Knowing you don't care_

(The scene slowly morphs back to the bedroom one before the flash to Simon in bed. The two Sherlocks are of equal visibility.)

_And if I sleep just to dream of you_

_I'll wake without you there_

(The sleeping Sherlock wakes with a silent scream. She sits up as the other Sherlock disappears and starts crying as the scene slowly changes.)

_Isn't something missing?_

_Isn't something_

(The scene changes to Sherlock standing outside an abandoned warehouse on the docks with a determined expression on her face.)

_(C1)_

She pulls out a handgun and checks it for bullets.

_(C2)_

She walks in as alarms flash and a guard runs towards her.

_(C3, 4)_

She shoots him and continues walking with a tear sliding down her face.

_Isn't something missing?_

She tosses the gun aside as she walks towards a dais, pulling out a pocketknife. There's an elaborate chair facing backwards that is turning as she walks.

_(C5)_

The impish girl sitting on the chair pulls out a gun and points it at Sherlock, who freezes with an impassive face.

_(Ending)_

The pocketknife is followed by the camera as it drops to the ground in slow motion, clattering loudly on the concrete floor. The picture then slowly fades to black.

* * *

_L: That was good cake._

_Ace: Yeah, well I'm not giving you any more. You're crazy enough without the cake._

_Sherlock: GIVE THE MAN SOME MORE CAKE!_

_Ace: NO!_

_Near: May I have cake?_

_Ace: Yes, you may._

_Matt: (yells from closet) The cake is a lie!_

_L: And with that, I decide I want cotton candy now._

_Ace: Good luck with that one. I'm gonna need reviews for the cotton candy too._

_L: Why must you torture me in this way, Ace-kun?_

_Ace: One, it gives incentive for people to review, and two, I have reason to deny you sweets._

_L: I hate you._

_Ace: Aw, I love you too L!_

_L: (hateful death glare)_

_Ace: :)_

_Near: She's scaring me._

_Sherlock: Me too. RUN!_


End file.
